


Yes, sir.

by TheProfoundBlade



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Benny is a good patient man <3, Brief scene of abuse/assault, Co-workers to lovers, D/s, F/M, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Modern AU, Phone Sex, Smut, dom/sub dynamics, everything is worked out though, power-play, slight trauma, terrible life verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 13:36:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7575949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheProfoundBlade/pseuds/TheProfoundBlade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Smith is a hardworking Creative Director at a Kansas based advertising firm. He’s cocky, confident and powerful in his position, but nothing gets him more thrilled than someone more powerful bossing him around in every way imaginable. In comes the new CEO from the biggest advertising firm in the southern states, Lafitte-LaCroix from Louisiana. Mr. Lafitte is everything Dean desperately wants and needs; powerful, masculinity incarnate and handsome as hell, and after a few official meetings it seems Mr. Lafitte could use Dean’s services as well. What entails is a long ride of lust, power play, emotions and desire for more than just sex, when Dean Smith and Mr. Lafitte slowly get to know each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet The Man

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is meldarlin's DBBB entry for 2016! My first ever big bang in any fandom. I hope you all enjoy it and I want to thank my artist and lovely friend rednikjow for providing me with an awesome photograph for this story. <3 
> 
> Do note that this is an un-betaed story, so I'm sorry if there's cringeworthy spots or such. I have been trying to re-read everything and correct my own silly mistakes here and there, but as we all know, sometimes shit slips. Oops.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy ! <3

\---- ¤ ----

_photo by[rednikjow](http://rednikjowwrites.tumblr.com/)_

\---- ¤ ----

The elevator doors slowly opened after a loud pling sound exclaimed to the passengers that they had arrived at their desired floor. Inside, in the middle of the pack of well-dressed people stood Dean Smith, earbuds safely and soundly plugged in and his head timidly swinging to a tune. He only looked up through his eyelashes to see what floor they were at - fifth, psch, still at the grunt levels - and he continued to sway to the catchy 80s tunes as the elevator crowd thinned down to just him and another man.

Finally, on the fourteenth floor, Dean perked up and got out of the elevator. This was his turf, his domain, his life. Around him, artists, copywriters and secretaries were scurrying around the huge office, some timidly smiling and saying hello to Dean as he passed them. All he heard was the soft tunes of New Order inspiring him to take very precise steps all the way to his corner office. He passed by his secretary, newly hired and looking scared of the power of Dean, and after he has tossed his bag on the table and unplugged his music, he headed back out to his secretary's desk to get the workload for the day.

"Morning uhh, Carsten," Dean muttered, taking a folder from the desk and looking it through.  
"C-Castiel, sir."  
"Oh, right," Dean smiled, bright and cocky, "sorry. I'll get it eventually. Can I call you Cas? I'll call you Cas. Reminds me of Cassie. Uff, she was something special... The mouth on her, if you know what I mean."

He winked at Castiel who looks positively horrified and confused. Just before Dean could continue his tales of Cassie, he felt an assertive hand grab onto his arm and he turned around to see his private assistant, Bela. He blinked and smiled cockily again, but she glared at him with her lips pressed tight, so tight that Dean could tell that now wasn’t the time for flirting; something was happening.

"What's up? Don't tell me Balth messed up another client."  
"No," she sighed, looking over her shoulder towards the big conference room, "haven't you heard?"

Dean shook his head and looked over in the same direction. The door was closed but the big glass walls showed lots of bodies sitting around the long table. Now he was genuinely intrigued.

"We're merging with Lafitte-LaCroix. You know, the biggest ad agency in the South? Dean, are you even listening to me?"

He had tuned out a little and just observed her lips move when she spoke. He loved her accent and especially loved it when she gasped out his name...

"Dean!" Bela growled, punching him on the arm, "Snap out of it you perv!"  
"Sorry, sorry. A merger?"

She nodded and pushed Dean into his office again, rushing over to his small dresser to find a more stylish tie. Dean moved back to the doorway and stretched on his feet to see if he could tell who the new bosses were, but everyone was moving around or sitting with their backs towards the offices.

"Why am I not in there?" Dean muttered, pocketing his hands in his slacks.  
"Are you a partner yet?" Bela answered, head still deep in the dresser, looking for a nicer shirt, "No, therefore you have no say. You might be able to butter up one of the new CEO's though."  
"Don't they know who I am... how important I am for this place?" Dean continued, hardly paying attention to Bela. She sighed, angrily and stomped over to him with a crisp white shirt and a deep green tie, pushing it violently against him and stared him down.

"Redress. Get over by the door. They want to meet the creative team in a moment. You better be ready to impress, hot shot."

He grinned at her, seemingly unphased but he frowned when she stomps away, leaving him to get ready. He was thoroughly displeased that his bosses didn't consider his opinion about such an important thing - after all, he was the star creative director in this company, clearly his opinion on who they should work with in the future would matter. Although, he knew nothing about Lafitte-LaCroix... They probably weren’t very important.

After redressing he refreshed his cologne and grabbed a swig of whiskey before he stepped back out. People were starting to crowd around the conference room, Bela and Cas standing by the flock as well. Dean sighed, shaking his head and straightened his back as he walked over to them, calm and collected with a cocky grin on his lips. 

They all stood there for another twenty minutes, people chit-chatting and some getting nervous. The PA's and secretaries set up champagne and the hors d'ourvres provided a bit earlier by the company's president. Dean stuck around his main creative team, his artist Balthazar and copywriter Jo, talking about which accounts they think they'll get from the new company, Jo mentioning some big shot companies like Samsung and Verizon. It made Dean's body tingle, thinking about all the money that would potentially start flowing in the relatively small Kansas firm.

Finally, the door opened and the company president, Mr. Zachariah Alder, stepped out with his team of lawyers and secretaries on tow. He let everyone walk out and Dean's eyes followed the lines of people until the new faces appear. Two men and a woman, all sharply dressed, walked out of the room with smiles on their faces, their lawyers, PA's and secretaries following suit. Dean's eyes were locked on one of the men: thick, broad, powerful, beard trim and neat, a white patch spreading from his chin all through his perfect beard, perfectly straight, pearly white teeth, extremely bright blue eyes... 

"Hey," Balthazar whispers, elbowing Dean, "stop gawking and get ready - we got to start the charm game in a moment."

Before Dean could bark a response, Mr. Adler gets the room to quiet down and motions the new partners over to his side. Dean still couldn’t stop staring at that one guy, something about him just seems so alluring.

"Everyone! I'd like you all to give a warm welcome to our new partners, Lafitte-LaCroix."

Everyone claps and a few whistle. The new partners all smile and nod. Once the room calmed down again, Mr. Adler continued.

"You all know how hard we've been working the last few years. We're up and coming, new in the market, but we bring passion and dedication to every account. And it shows! Look at how much we've grown," he motioned out towards the room, "we have so many active accounts and all of our clients are happy with us. Which is why Lafitte-LaCroix came to us."

Dean slithered forward through a few people, standing right in clear view of the partners. He wasn't going to be outshined or overlooked in this important moment.

"They saw our potential and wanted to bring us into their big, successful flock. They bring us some of the biggest accounts we have ever seen, and they put all their faith in us. Now, we're going to have to buy a few extra floors to compensate for the workers coming from Louisiana, but I want you all to remember - we're one big family here. One big, awesome, relentless marketing family. So, for now, let's have a drink, get to know each other and starting next week, we're going to delegate the new accounts to the creative teams. I hope you're ready,"

Mr. Adler winked and pointed directly at Dean. Everyone laughed and smiled, Dean winking back in return and clicking his tongue, eying the partners confidently. He noticed the man he was fixated on before was looking him up and down, and Dean decided to show off a little, lifting his jaw a little higher, puffing out his chest a little more. He knew he was tasty looking, and if he was going to have to use it to get more out of this job then so be it - if anything, his good looks had always just been an advantage.


	2. The Meeting

A week or so later, the CEO's called in the creative teams for a full rundown on the current accounts and to delegate the new ones. Every creative team had to make a short presentation of the campaigns they had finished and run through their strategy and process with the clients, helping the process of finding the right teams for the right accounts. Dean was fixing his tie as Jo and Balthazar moved into his office, timid Castiel walking in behind them, meekly stating they just walked in without him having a chance to ask Dean if he was ready for them.

"It's alright Cassie- err. Cas. Mind getting us some coffee before the meeting?"

Castiel nodded and closed the door behind him, leaving the team in silence. Balth clutched around his portfolio and sighed as he walked over to the huge windows, looking out on the busy city. Jo straightened her blazer and cleared her throat as Dean finished his tie and turned to greet them.

"We ready?"  
"As ready as ready can be, I guess," Jo sighed, shaking her head a little, "I'm so scared we're gonna end up with some deadbeat fishing firms or something."  
"Hey!" Balth exclaimed, walking over, looking offended, "I got family in Louisiana, some of which are fishermen. They're honorable people."  
"We don't care about honor Balth," Dean interjected, grabbing the portfolio from the artist, "we care about money." 

They ran through their last successful campaigns and ran through their presentation, Dean taking the word most of the time - after all, he was the salesman. Castiel knocked timidly on the door and came in with a tray of coffee, milk, cream and sugar and poured the group their drinks. After thanking him, Dean went behind his desk and sat down, sipping on his coffee as he heard Balthazar's pitch for interactive websites helping a campaign reach even further, a pitch that landed a million dollar account not more than six months ago. About five minutes after, Castiel came in to let them know the meeting was setting up.

The creative team walked into the busy conference room, Dean stepping just inside and next to the door to look over the room. The other teams were preparing in the far end of the room, talking loud and busy, and in the other end of the room the CEO's were already sitting comfortably, sipping on coffee. At the end of the table, next to Mr. Adler, sat the man Dean had been a bit fixated with the first day. Dean learned that he was the Lafitte of the company. He was the innovative, money-smart part of the company and seeing him around the office made Dean vibrate every time. He was stocky, and strong, and almost intimidating... a level of power Dean hadn't encountered before, and he wanted to drown in it.

Dean made sure to take seat at the middle of the table, clear in view of Mr. Lafitte. The room settled as people found their place and the creative main secretary ran through the agenda for the day. The company alone had seven major accounts and several minor ones, and about five creative teams to run through. Dean's team was second, and through the first presentation Dean would sneak little looks at Mr. Lafitte, trying to further read this powerful man.

His suit was tailored but oh so snug around his shoulders and arms. On his right wrist, a white-gold giant watch shone in the sunlight from outside, and quite a few solid rings were decorating his thick fingers. His crisp, dark blue shirt was unbuttoned just past his collarbone, showing a nice tan and a deep sternum. His beard just as neatly trimmed as it was the first day Dean saw him, his hair well groomed, his skin looking incredibly soft. Dean found himself salivating when Mr. Lafitte growled and sighed in boredom, looking at the current talking creative team as though they were wasting his precious time.

Dean wouldn't waste his time.

Mr. Adler thanked the team and Dean's assembled their things to get ready to present. Jo started, quickly running over the numerous accounts their team had worked with and particularly focused on their million-dollar win. That made Balthazar take over, running through the ideas of multi-media and digital marketing and the importance of it, and how the concept was the big reason the account decided to stick with them rather than competition. Then came Dean, proud and tall, standing straight, arms confidently in his pants pockets. He overlooked the room before starting his speech about their client mentality, how they know money is power but time is also money, and that no other team had been as successful and effective as theirs. A lot of the other people in the room groaned and sighed, but looked down a bit shameful because it was true. Dean took notice that Mr. Lafitte was looking at him intensely, a hand over his mouth and his brows furrowed in seriousness. Dean beamed and continued before thanking everyone for their time.

There was an applause, even from the CEO's and Dean licked his lips when he saw Mr. Lafitte looked him up and down again. He grabbed his tie and adjusted it a little, maybe a little too tight but he bit his lip as he did it, sitting down slowly and silently gasping as he sunk into the seat. Maybe it was a bad idea to wear a plug today, but he thrived off – and got off of the attention, off of being better than everyone else and he wanted to treat himself for being so awesome at his job. What he didn't notice was Mr. Lafitte sitting with a slightly surprised expression before smirking behind his hand.

Mr. Lafitte was enjoying the view quite a bit. He stopped listening to the following groups just to observe this Mr. Smith even closer, trying to read him. He saw that slight squirm and cheeks getting flushed when he sat down, saw how tight that tie was pulled. This little boy was playing high and mighty but Benny knew... Benny saw.  
He licked his lips when Mr. Smith lifted a pen to his pillowy lips, slowly placing the end inside. Mr. Smith was looking at the presentation, which had moved onto the new accounts. Benny had to bite down slightly on his knuckle when Mr. Smith closed his lips around the tip of the pen, twirled it slightly as he pulled it slowly out and opened up his pretty mouth again, revealing the slightest hint of a pink, delicate tongue running over the very tip of the poor, or rather very lucky pen. 

Man that boy had some lips on him. And that oral fixation was going to be a problem, Benny thought, before he cleared his throat and tried to adjust in his seat to accommodate for the bulk growing in his pants. It became much worse when Mr. Smith continued the assault on the pen and rotated his hips at the same time, closing his eyes in clear pleasure. Benny groaned, biting down on his knuckle again. Mr. Adler and Benny's PA sitting next to him, Meg, looked over and asked if he was okay. Benny just nodded and waved them off, eyes still locked on Mr. Smith.

The discussions started around the table a short while after concerning which teams should get which accounts. Dean had tossed his pen and was fighting to get the biggest account, vigorously arguing about it and making his case. He didn't notice Mr. Lafitte still staring at him, until the meeting was over and they had gotten the accounts they wanted. He looked over and noticed Mr. Lafitte smiling, winking at him before getting up from his seat. Everyone were exchanging handshakes and Mr. Adler congratulated Dean on getting the biggest current account, Samsung, and Dean thanked him but couldn't get his eyes off of Mr. Lafitte who was whispering something to his PA. 

He passed Dean a moment later, hardly looking at him. Dean felt his whole body shake when the whiff of Mr. Lafitte's powerful cologne hit him. He spent the next half hour locked in his office, jacking off, thinking about how incredibly powerful and good looking and dominant Mr. Lafitte looked and how he wished he could get on his knees for him someday.


	3. Tell Me About Yourself

Dean managed to steer clear of Mr. Lafitte for the next week or so, keeping busy with the new accounts and trying out his new secretary's skillset. He had just blown his load and made Castiel clean up after them as a few hard knocks landed on his door before Mr. Lafitte’s PA Meg barged in. Dean turned in his chair and cocked his eyebrow at her, Castiel blushing bright red and scurried out of the room past her as she smirked knowingly. 

“I knew you were the type.”  
“Uh-huh. Have to break them in somehow. What do you need?”

Meg grinned and swiftly walked over to the front of Dean's desk, overlooking the overly neat set up and shook her head. 

“Look, usually we send the pretty blonde secretaries, but he's picky and hasn't found the right hue yet, so I'm sadly acting as his messenger. He wants to see you after lunch today.”  
“I'm sorry, who?” Dean asked, having forgotten completely where he had seen her before.  
“Mr. Lafitte you numb-nut. Your new boss? The guy who has your paycheck and your balls in the same hand and over half the rest of the company’s in the other?”

Dean blushed then, getting wide-eyed and a bit flustered. He cleared his throat and straightened his tie, sitting forward over his desk, fiddling with a pen as he looked up at Meg who was sitting halfway on the edge of the desk.

“Uuh- uh, why? Anything wrong or, uh...”  
“Nah,” she quickly replied rather nonchalantly, getting up from her seat with a jump and walking towards the door, “he just wants to talk with some of you creative directors. See who you are. Be there, 1:30.”

She slammed the door behind her and left Dean sitting, frozen in motion, confused and blushing from his chest to his ears.   
Okay, okay, it was probably just a formal meeting, an official “let's shake hands and see who we are” type, a “I heard you're the best of the creative directors why don't you get under my desk and-”

Dean shook his head violently and groaned, stopping his mind from racing further. He checked his clock and saw that he had an hour and a half to get there, lunch starting. As he called Castiel to get him to fetch a light salad for lunch for him, he tried out most of his ties and even ironed his shirt again. He wanted to make a good personal impression. Not on his knees. Or on them. He didn't care either way.

He took the elevator up a few floors to the CEO’s floor, huge offices and lavish seating areas taking up all the space. There were hardly any people, only secretaries at their exquisite mahogany desks and PAs on their Bluetooth phones talking in endless streams while they plotted away on their iPads. Dean walked down the short, open hallway to see Meg sitting at the far corner office, twirling her hair with one finger and reading a book with the other. When Dean came over, he looked down to see if he could recognize the writing but with no luck. She noticed him, smirking devilishly at him before sitting back in her chair.

“You don't strike me as a bookworm.”  
“Neither do you. What are you reading?”  
“Nietzsche.”

Dean made an oh face and looked around, finding a clock to read. 1:25. 

“I'll let him know you're here,” she sighed, bouncing off of the chair and brushed past Dean, only quickly knocking on the door before she slipped inside.   
Dean was shaking a little. He couldn't help but wonder if something actually was wrong and Meg was just pulling his leg, maybe Mr. Lafitte had reevaluated the distribution of the accounts and didn't feel it was the smartest move to have Dean and his team sit with one of the big players… 

Not more than a minute after, Meg opened the door and signaled Dean to come inside. He looked into the incredibly spacious room, seeing Mr. Lafitte's silhouette by the huge windows overlooking the city. He gulped and stepped in gently, Meg smirking knowingly as she went out and started closing the door.

"Meg darlin'," Mr. Lafitte's dark, booming voice filled the room, "mind holdin' my calls the next hour?"

She sighed, groaned and winked at Dean who was looking back towards her, eyes knitted together in worry. 

"Sure thing Mr. Lafitte."

She closed the door and Dean swiftly turned his head to look at Mr. Lafitte again. It was quiet, the room almost completely free of any noise other than the gentle rustling of fabric from Dean adjusting his stance and the muted talking from outside the office.

"Please, have a seat Mr. Smith," the CEO softly spoke, barely turning his head to see Dean, "get comfy."

Dean shivered from the depth and drawl of Mr. Lafitte's voice and nodded, trying to keep his composure as he walked over to one of the decadent leather chairs in front of the beautiful desk. Everything in Mr. Lafitte's room was stylish, clean but traditional. Nothing was overly modern or artsy-fartsy, but sleek and elegant, just as he was looking, standing there by the window, thick and strong, tall and wide, hair and beard neatly trimmed and kept, pants and jacket perfectly sown to fit.

Clearing his throat, Dean adjusted a little in his seat and licked his lips. It was a weird "get to know you" meeting if that's what it was, if all Mr. Lafitte would be doing was look over the city and have Dean stare at him while he did it.

"I apologize," Mr. Lafitte spoke, making Dean jump slightly, "I'm still adjustin' to this city. I kinda miss lookin' over the coastline."

He slowly turned and sat in his soft leather chair, leaning back comfortably and looking intensely at Dean with a smile on his face. He leaned his head to the right slightly, squinting his eyes, Dean feeling like he was getting weighed and measured like was he a prized bull up for auction at the local farmers fair. 

"Ever been?" the CEO asked, his accent so thick and wonderful. Dean blinked a few times and shook his head with a timid smile.  
"No sir. I'd like to, sometime. Hear it's a beautiful state. You were based in New Orleans, right?"  
"Mmm-hm. City's still in a rocky state, but it's getting better. We worked alot with fundin' rebuildin', but y'know. That's still on-goin'."

Dean nodded, looking down into this lap in sympathy. He fidgeted his hands slightly, annoyed at his own nervousness, lifting his head again a little quick as to not be disrespectful.

"Have you met the other creative directors?" he asked, straightening his back a little, trying to look comfortable in his seat. He felt like he was failing. Mr. Lafitte nodded, swaying his chair slightly.

"Sure have. You's a good, creative bunch here. Was a smart move, buyin' you. Think we can get lots done with you boys."  
"Good, I'm glad to hear that sir. We're not gonna disappoint."  
"Wadn't expectin' it."

Mr. Lafitte smiled then, pearly white teeth shining so brightly behind his dark beard. Dean took notice with how a clear white patch was spreading from the left of his chin and all over, and it made him shiver again. How was this man so attractive?

"Now, I wanna hear a bit 'bout you Mr. Smith." 

Leaning over the table, Mr. Lafitte folded his hands assertively but kept a gentle smile on his lips. Dean lifted his chin in response, leaning his arms on the armrest and smiling.

"What do you need to know Sir?"  
"I been hearin' you the flirty one."

Dean swallowed hard but nodded assertively and smirked. 

"I know how to work my clients."  
"That's good, I like that in a salesman. We all know most o'these old fuckers wanna get their egos brushed a bit."  
"Oh yes, for sure. Stroke 'em real good."

He was testing the waters, earning himself a cocked eyebrow from the CEO. 

"Mm-hm. I hear you're the best at keepin' them on edge, so to say."

Man, he was playing along so well. Dean clicked his tongue and laughed a little, sitting forward and licking his lips a little slow.

"The longer they hold the bigger the payload, is what I've learned."

Mr. Lafitte nodded, leaning back into the chair. He was swaying a little again, placing one of his big hands on the side of his face, a finger brushing against his lips. Dean started feeling like a piece of meat getting assessed again and cleared his throat.

"So, you bein' so good at yer job," the CEO continued, lifting his head sligthly, "are you good at takin' orders? Or are you more of a... defiant boy? Gettin' into trouble?"

Dean felt his whole body become scorching hot and he clenched his hands into the fabric of the chair. He tried to play it off a little and chuckled as he adjusted in the chair, crossing his legs... damn, what did he step into?

"I uuh,"  
I do orders oh so well sir, oh I'll do anything for you sir, anything you want anywhere you want sir, I swear I'll be a good boy for you I swear sir,  
"I'd say I'm pretty good at taking orders. But not from people that don't deserve my respect."

Mr. Lafitte nodded very slowly at that response and kept looking Dean over. Dean wanted to crawl onto his knees then and there, wanted to be good and beg for Mr. Lafitte's care and attention, for a taste...

Meg knocked twice, loudly and barged in. Dean jumped in shock but couldn't stop staring at Mr. Lafitte, noticing how annoyed he looked when Meg marched up to the desk.

"Quoi? Vous ne voyez pas que je suis occupé?" he practically growled, Dean gasping under his breath.  
"Je regrette monsieur, mais monsieur Adler demande une rencontre d'urgence sur le compte RollerRox."

Mr. Lafitte groaned loudly and dismissed her, the door being closed a bit soft behind her this time. He looked back at Dean and tried to give a small smile, but the annoyance was seeping through so clearly that it made Dean almost a little scared.

"I apologize Mr. Smith-"  
"-Dean, sir," Dean interrupted, blushing deep as he did, "you can call me Dean."  
"Dean," Mr. Lafitte drawled, his demeanor changing to a bit more pleased again, "I'm gonna have to cut this uh, personal meetin' a bit short. Mr. Adler's having some problems with a new account."  
"It's alright sir, I understand."

They both stood at the same time, Mr. Lafitte walking over to open the door and lead Dean out. As he passed the CEO, Dean felt a hand on his wrist keeping him in place for a moment, and he shivered as a whisper grazed his ear, the salt and pepper beard gently brushing over his sensitive skin;

"I got a feelin' you're gonna be my favorite, Dean."


	4. Casual Friday

The next month was pure torture. Torture that sent Dean running to his office for a quick wank more than he'd like to admit. Torture that meant he had to train the new secretary more than he expected he would in such a short period. 

It was starting to become a standard pattern: Dean would be talking in the hallways of the company with Jo or Balth or anyone else about an account, or the night before, or anything really, and Mr. Lafitte would walk past - usually accompanied by his entourage of co-owners and high-end stake-holders looking at the whole company - and he would lean in, whisper something incredibly dirty, filthy, sexy, taunting and terrible in his ear. Dean always had to nod it off and agree or just smile, excuse himself to whoever was in conversation with him and rush somewhere private. So far, none of them had commented and just thought if it as Dean being let in on company secrets or buttering up to get dibs on the new accounts... 

But Dean kept repeating those words in his head every time he had to shut himself in, or every time he abused Castiel's obvious affection for a quick blowjob under the desk.

"I see that hickey, Dean. Been naughty, haven't you?"  
"Must be a good day since yer treatin' yourself to that plug, huh?"  
"You deserve a treat for yesterday's presentation, Dean."

One day, it sort of just got out of control.   
It was Casual Friday, the one day a month where they could dress down and have some cocktails at the office after work. Dean had dressed down in some dark jeans that hung a bit loose on his toned legs, a tight black shirt and a dark red overshirt, unbuttoned and folded up over his muscular underarms. He was sipping on a vodka and juice while he was chatting up Bela, crowding her a little over one of the tables in the open office. They had played around a dozen times before, benefiting of their relationship in a way where they took what they needed from each other whenever, and in return their work-relationship was powerful and effective. She had a lot of liberties, but Dean hadn't had a better PA than her ever in his career, so they both appreciated their relationship as it was.

Pop music was booming in the speakers in the office, people talking, laughing, playing beer-pong and some were getting busy in the corners of the office - just like Dean and Bela. She giggled when he brushed a warm hand up the inside of her thigh and bit her neck, nuzzling into her soft skin with a groan.

"Aren't you over-eager tonight," she purred, cupping his half-hard length over his clothes, "he must really have you going crazy..."

Dean flinched backwards and stared at her with wide eyes. She returned the shocked look for a brief moment before gently pulling him back in by the lapel of his shirt with a confident smile, brushing a hand over his ass.

"Don't worry darling, no one else knows. But I know how you look when someone gets you excited... I understand. He's mighty handsome, powerful too, just as you want them,"  
"Stop it," Dean grumbled, blushing, chugging most of his drink.  
"Oh come on Deanie, it's been so long since someone's got you this riled up. I like it!"

He kept looking around the office, sipping the remaining of his drink, trying to ignore her. She squeezed his ass and pulled him in between her legs, looking up at him with hooded eyes and biting her lower lip.

"C'mon cowboy, I know you've been taking out some of that energy on your poor, desperate secretary. Why don't you and I have some fun tonight huh? I miss your pretty mouth on me."

He growled and dove in on her neck, sucking, licking and kissing her up and down while his free hand returned into her inner thigh and kept moving upwards. They didn't spend too much time out in the open however, Bela pulling her boss into his office and not bothering to close the door completely. She made her way over to his big, soft leather chair and leaned back, inviting him in between her legs.

Meanwhile, Mr. Lafitte and the rest of the CEO's had made it downstairs to join in on the Casual Friday. Most of the employee's stopped what they were doing immediately, but Mr. Adler assured everyone that they wanted the friendly and fun tune to continue, and to show it he chugged a shot. Quickly the music returned and everyone started talking again, and Benny was looking around for a sign of Dean.

"He's probably gone out already," Meg said, slipping her arms around one of Benny's thick ones, smiling up at him, "that's okay. You'll see him Monday, right?"

Benny grumbled and looked at the drinks table, contemplating drinking his disappointment away. He had wanted to play a little harder with Dean that evening, but alas... it seemed he was too late. 

They mingled a little, mostly staying together by the drinks table, observing everybody. Meg noticed Castiel and started talking about how Dean was forgetting his name all the time, and how she thought he was really cute and probably a good lay. Benny smiled and grabbed her arm, pulling her over to Castiel and barging in on a conversation he was having with an intern.

"Hey, Castiel yeah?"

Castiel nodded, wide-eyed, almost dropping his drink.

"Meg fancies you a lil, so I figure you kids could have some fun tonight huh?"

Meg punched Benny in return, sauntering over next to Castiel with a confident smile and took his drink, sipping from it slowly. Just as Benny was turning to leave, Meg held him back for a moment.

"Hey, Cas sweetheart, where's your boss? We've been looking for him but we can't seem to see him anywhere."  
"I think I saw him go to his office a little while ago," Castiel answered, blushing as he was looking into Meg's powerful eyes.

Benny nodded, taking the hint and walked around the crowd and down one of the corridors to head to the area where Dean's office was located. As he got closer, he heard low, breathy moans and he cocked his eyebrow, pocketing his hands. He peered in through the gap of the door and saw Bela splayed over the table, Dean on his knees and going to town on her, licking and fingering her while he moaned, one of her hands clenching at his short hair.

Benny didn't catch more than a short moment of it but swiftly moved away, out of view and leaned against the wall, breathing a little deep. He closed his eyes and kept listening to Bela's moans, deepening, praising Dean who was grunting and moaning in return. What he wouldn't give to have Dean on his knees in front of him....

He peeked in a little moment later, when Bela was coming and demanding Dean to fuck her. Benny cupped himself over his slacks and bit his lower lip as he saw how Dean so obediently got on his feet and leaned down over Bela's half-naked body, peppering her with kisses and kept her rolling on his fingers before he unzipped his pants.

Hearing someone talk at the end of the corridor, Benny quickly pulled himself away from the door and rushed into the nearby backroom, locking himself in a stall and leaning against the door. He knocked his head back against it and groaned, cupping himself again, growling deep in his throat as he tried his best envisioning Dean working a cock...

He got a shock when two women barged into the bathroom and, while laughing, refreshed their makeup and talked loudly about how they were going to play Balthazar all night. Benny tried to hold his breath and lean far enough away from the door so they didn't know he was there. When they finally left, he took a deep breath and got out of the stall, staring at his reflecting in the mirror, straightening his back. He had to keep his composure, stop himself from falling apart being so desperate for this, quite clearly, submissive man. 

He stuck around the office party for another hour or so, drinking and talking to mostly Mr. Adler and Naomi, his co-owner and old friend from Lafitte-LaCroix. Meg was busy making out with Castiel, and Benny shook his head when he heard Meg laugh as she pulled the poor man away. As he lifted his drink and looked into the busy crowd, he saw Bela and Dean return, both of them smiling and quickly finding drinks.

Bela pecked a quick kiss on Dean's cheek and excused herself, grabbing her bag and leaving the party. Dean went through the crowd and over by the snack table, where Benny was leaned against the table. Without seeing who was near him, Dean grabbed a handful of peanuts and threw them into his mouth, chewing lewdly and looking up to his right, freezing in motion as he saw Mr. Lafitte.

They stared at each other for a moment, Dean quickly chomping through the peanuts and gulping, his eyes going wide. Mr. Lafitte kept sipping his drink, clear blue eyes locked on Dean. Naomi excused herself to leave the party as well. Mr. Lafitte smiled at her and pushed off of the table, locking eyes with Dean for a moment longer before turning to leave as well.

Without knowing exactly why he did it, Dean tossed whatever he had in his hands and rushed over after Mr. Lafitte, stopping a few feet away from where he was waiting on the elevator. Mr. Lafitte pocketed his hands and looked over his shoulder, knowing very well Dean was there, and as he walked into the empty elevator he nodded upwards, signaling Dean to enter with him.

As soon as the doors closed, Mr. Lafitte crowded Dean and pushed him up against them. Dean's chest and cheek hit the cold metal, shivering as he saw Mr. Lafitte's huge paws securing themselves against the wall too, feeling the weight of Mr. Lafitte's chest against his shoulders. He was desperate for this. It was happening. Finally. 

"Yer such a naughty boy Dean," Mr. Lafitte growled, panting, the alcohol clearly breaking his composure a little, "I come down here to keep toyin' with ya and I find you eatin' out your PA... Lucky girl. Knew that mouth was made for pleasure."

Dean whimpered, pushing back a little against Mr. Lafitte, earning himself a groan in return. 

"By the way, them jeans here," the CEO continued, one of his hands silently roaming down to Dean's backside, gently groping, "they look mighty fine on ya. And I love the red color on you... brings out that beautiful golden tan of yers."

Dean was shivering, closing his eyes, feeling how Mr. Lafitte's whole body was leaned over him, how it was heating him so quick and the room felt smaller and smaller. Mr. Lafitte kept groping, pushing big fingertips under Dean's shirts, growling together until they felt the elevator slow down. It wasn't at the parking level and they both stepped back to separate corners of the elevator, panting and catching glimpses of each other as a group of drunk employees entered the elevator with them.

When they reached the parking level, they walked out alongside most of the employees that had so rudely interrupted them. They stood a few feet apart, still breathy, Dean's whole body buzzing. Mr. Lafitte cleared his throat, grabbing his phone and reaching it over to Dean, looking assertively at him.

"Give me your number."

Dean took the phone gently and quickly plotted in the number, reaching the phone back without looking at it. Mr. Lafitte nodded and swiftly called a cab. Dean was still frozen in place, his whole body feeling warm and ready to do whatever it was told. 

"Called a cab for ya. I'll see you Monday."

Mr. Lafitte walked out of the parking area, not looking back for one moment, and left Dean alone in the almost empty area. When the door closed behind Mr. Lafitte, Dean felt his whole body take a deep breath and he started shaking, a feeling of desperation and desire coiling deep in his stomach. Fuck, what would have happened if the elevator had remained empty? Would he had gone home with him in that cab?

When he got to his apartment complex, the cabbie expressed that Mr. Lafitte had already paid for the fare. Dean thanked him and got out, scrambling to get inside and slouched into the elevator, dragging his feet as he made it to his front door. Just as he locked himself inside he heard his phone give off a pling, and he left it until he had stripped out of all his clothes and curled into his bed.

He sighed deep, trying his best to remember how warm and strong Mr. Lafitte had felt behind him. How he smelled, his deep his voice went. With a groan he opened the text from a number he couldn't recognize and went wide-eyed as he finished the text.

_"I like my boys naughty. Start wearing more red. It's my favorite color on you. -B"_


	5. Yes, sir.

Over the weekend, Dean would get texts from “B”. Having never heard Mr. Lafitte’s first name, he thought about what his name could be. Boris? Nah, he didn’t look Eastern European. Bobby? That just made Dean shiver and irk thinking of his uncle Bobby. He knew he could just google his name, or look up the number, but something about just keeping it formal or the texts “B” made it much more fun for him.

He was doing yoga in front of the TV Sunday evening when another text rolled in. He smiled to himself and felt his cock twitch in anticipation. None of the texts had been overly sexual or crude, but the thought of Mr. Lafitte was enough to get his juices flowing.  
He exhaled a final time after his last pose and grabbed his phone, flopping onto his stomach on the yoga mat. He opened the text and licked his lips, ready for anything.

_Are you willing to play tonight, Dean? –B”_

Dean nodded to himself, eagerly typing a response. Meanwhile the TV was going, some robbery having happened in Down Town. Dean cared oh so little about it.

“Yes, sir.”  
_“Good boy. Show me what you are wearing.”_

He growled, he was in his sweaty workout clothes and didn’t feel particularly sexy. He decided to act quick and tumbled to his bedroom, switching to some low-hanging gray cotton pants and a tight, black wifebeater. He went to his bathroom and snapped a few pictures in his mirror, posing to his best abilities, keeping his still-red head out of frame. He sent it with no caption, moving back to the living room and throwing himself into his lavish, huge sofa.

_“Very nice. Show me how low those pants can go.”_

Dean bit his lower lip, adjusting on the couch a little. He pushed the pants down to his groin, stubble showing slightly in the darker light. He took a few shots, flexing his stomach a little, making sure the mess on the coffee table was out of view. He was already hard but hid it behind the hand pushing his pants down.

_“You’re a good boy, Dean. Nice and clean, too. I appreciate it when my boys are neat.”_

Dean shivered and stroked himself through the fabric. He spread his legs far apart and pushed his free hand into his pants, slowly pulling at himself, closing his eyes and imagining Mr. Lafitte in the room with him, commanding him to do all sorts of naughty things, scold him when he...

_“Are you being naughty, Dean? Touching yourself without permission?”_

Dean read the text through lidded eyes and at first didn’t think, but with a gasp he dropped his phone and stopped his hand in his pants. He looked around, quickly realizing that – of course – Mr. Lafitte wasn’t there, and with a pout he answered the text, both hands on the phone.

“No, Sir.”  
_“I don’t like my boys lying, Dean. Be good or I’m going to have to punish you.”_

Please do please do please do, Dean mentally chanted as he grabbed his hard cock through the fabrics again, taking a picture of his hand over it. He sent the picture with a caption this time, shaking as he did.

“I’m sorry sir, you make me so horny.”  
_“Very bad Dean. I never gave you permission to touch.”_  
“Forgive me sir”  
Dean sent another picture alongside that message. It was of his half-naked stomach and his groin, his cock-head peeking out of the pants, his free hand flat on his thigh. It took a minute for a response to tick in, enough time to make Dean doubt if it had been the right move or it had been too bold.

_“Better. When I see you I’m going to have to punish you proper. Now, tell me Dean. Do you have any toys home?”_

He tossed his phone to his side and grabbed one of the pillows nearby, moaning and whining loudly into it. How was this fair? And why hadn’t the company been sold to this man ages ago?

“Yes, sir.”  
_“Find me your favorite ones. A selection. I will choose what you will use tonight.”_

“Holy fucking crap,” Dean muttered to himself as he left the phone in the couch to go to his toy-box next to the bed. He grabbed his favorite at-home plug, not too big and not too small. He also grabbed two of his favorite dildos, one a quite a bit bigger than the other, but maybe Mr. Lafitte wanted to see his boy take on a challenge. He brought them to the living room, placing them on a pillow and snapped a photo, sending it off as he went up to pour himself a big glass of ice-water and grabbing some pieces of fruit. 

He put on a different channel on his TV, contemplating putting on porn but knowing he would just get too distracted too quick. He pulled off his shirt and settled in the corner of his couch, picking up the phone that had a message ready for him. 

_“Middle one.”_

It was the normal sized dildo. Dean smiled and reached over to grab it, grabbing the bottle of lube he had brought with him too. He waited for another text, unsure if Mr. Lafitte wanted a reply. A short while after, another text rolled in.

_“Show me how you would treat my cock.”_

Dean moaned, grabbing himself again. Fuck, this was fantastic.

“Sir, I think I would have to upgrade to the bigger one.”

He snapped a picture of his hand holding onto the shaft of the much larger dildo. He had no realistic idea of how big Mr. Lafitte actually was, but if his stocky, big body and thick fingers were anything to go by, this was more suitable. 

_“Fine. Show me.”_

Dean tried to think through how he could do it. He licked his lips and brought the dildo to his mouth, closing his eyes and tried to envision Mr. Lafitte over him. After working the dildo past his lips a few times, he grabbed his phone and took a picture of his open mouth and the dildo hanging heavy on his tongue. He sent it and nestled further into the couch, getting more into sucking on it than he cared to admit, but kept his hands off of himself as much as possible while he waited on a reply.

_“Yes, that looks about right. Film yourself sucking it off for me.”_

He spent a little bit trying to figure out how to film it the best, without looking too wonky or awkward. He zoomed in on his lips and kept his eyes out of the frame as much as possible so he could keep an eye on how it looked on the screen. He started slow, gently pushing the thick cock into his open mouth and out again, sliding it slowly over his wet tongue. He hummed deep in his throat as he closed his lips and gently sucked on the head, hallowing his cheeks as he pushed it in a little. He let himself enjoy it more than he expected and open-mouthed moaned over it as he started getting sloppy. After a good two minutes he stopped the video and sent it off, turning onto his stomach to dry-hump the couch, trying to relieve himself just a tiny bit. 

_“Perfect, what a good boy. You will look perfect choking on my fat cock.”_

“Yes sir,” Dean moaned, still humping his couch. He knew he looked desperate, but he was loving it too much. Way too much.

_“Show me your pretty hole. Show me how you want me to stuff your pretty ass.”_

Dean growled, instinctively pushing his free hand past his pants and circling his entrance slowly. He thought about how to do that, but it seemed impossible unless he had to spend a good fifteen minutes setting something up. Instead, he gathered courage, biting his lip and texting Mr. Lafitte back.

“I can’t show you sir, it’s too dark in here and I don’t have a good camera. But, sir, may I suggest that you call me? I will tell you what I am doing. How I am fucking myself thinking of you.”

Again, a moment passed with nothing. Dean started feeling bad, maybe he stepped out of line again, but his heart fluttered when the phone rang. He stared at it for a moment, maybe a bit too long, but he finally got enough courage, grabbed it and held it close against his left ear.

“Hello sir.”  
_“Hello Dean. It was a lovely suggestion,”_ Mr. Lafitte’s deep, growly voice clearly rung through the phone, _“maybe we should set ye up with a webcam eventually.”_

Dean gulped and held his breath, trying his best to be calm and collected for his sir.

“That would be awesome, sir.”

He heard how deep Mr. Lafitte’s laugh was and it made him smile. He turned on his side and grabbed his own ass a little, licking his lips in anticipation.

_“You’re being a very good boy, Dean. And you look beautiful sucking dick. Do you like getting your mouth filled up, boy?”_  
“Mm-hm,” Dean agreed, gently pushing against his tight entrance again, “I love it sir.”  
_“I look forward to having you under my desk during a meeting. See if you can keep quiet workin’ my cock.”_

Dean couldn’t help himself and moaned a little loud, pushing his head into the pillow under his head. He heard Mr. Lafitte groan shortly before a chuckle taking over, and he blushed profusely from his head to his toes.

_“Are you playing with your pretty hole, Dean?”_

Mr. Lafitte’s voice was so dark and his drawl was long. Dean put the phone on speaker and put some lube on his fingers, adjusting back onto his stomach and reaching back, gently pushing a fingertip past his tight rim.

“Ah-h, yes Sir.”  
_“Good boy, so good for me.”_

Dean pressed his face harder into the couch and slowly worked himself open, moaning loudly and breathing deeper and deeper. He could hear how Mr. Lafitte was humming in approval, groaning every so often. It made him smile and more dedicated to work faster. This was dirty, and everything that he wanted, but never thought would happen – especially not with his boss.

“S-sir, ah, are you touching yourself t-too?”

He heard how Mr. Lafitte held in a moan and Dean smiled again, working in his second finger to the second knuckle. God how he wished for a real cock right about now.

_“Keep fingering yourself boy.”_

Dean grinned in response and kept going, making sure he was loud and lewd as much as possible. Just as he was about to lather up the plug he heard rustling on the line and Mr. Lafitte cursing.

Then the line was cut off.

He dropped his body on the couch and blinked, staring at the phone-screen fading to black. What the hell just happened? He sighed and groaned at his sticky fingers, finding his shirt on the floor to dry off his hands. As he sat up and took a sip of water, a message ticked in. He bit the inside of his lip and looked up at the TV, his mood completely dead at that point, but he picked up the phone and read the text as he slowly chomped down on a piece of apple.

_“Apologies, good boy. I had an important call come in. Trust me, I would not leave you like that by choice. You did perfect for me good boy, except that little touching earlier. Come by my office tomorrow during lunch. Good night. –B”_

Dean smiled, a little sad but at least Mr. Lafitte wasn’t hurt or something serious had happened. He finished his fruit and the ice water, turned off the TV and went to have a shower before bed. As he curled up into bed a new text ticked in. He groaned, thinking it was Bela with an early meeting she’d forgotten to remind him of, but his frown turned into a broad, horny smile quickly as he saw the picture and caption Mr. Lafitte had sent him.

_“And yes, I was. I was during that other call too, thinking of your pretty mouth on this. I look forward to lunchtime tomorrow.”_

The picture was a shot down Mr. Lafitte’s stomach, his thick cock and his big paw holding it straight in focus. Dean salivated and started rubbing his palm against his growing bulge again but stopped himself, promising to keep his hands off and wait for it all to culminate tomorrow. He spent a good ten minutes just staring at the picture, imagining the weight against his tongue. Lunch was going to be fun.


	6. On Your Knees

Dean adjusted his tie one last time. It was a deep red, a bit shiny but without texture or pattern. He wasn’t brave enough yet to move from his blue and white shirts, but the tie was a start. He posed a little in the full-body mirror he had in his office, ensuring everything looked crisp and good and perfect. He had put on his favorite cologne and had been chewing on breath-refreshing gum all day. He wanted to be as appetizing as he possibly could be.

A soft knock landed on his door, and he mindlessly said “come in”. Castiel peaked in through the door, timid as ever, observing Mr. Smith looking himself over.

“Do you have a meeting later, sir?”  
“Huh?” Dean asked as he turned to look at his secretary, blinking a little, “oh, oh. No. Just trying out a new style.”  
“You look dashing as ever, Sir.”  
“Thank you Clarence- err… Cas.”

Castiel smiled this time, instead of the usual sad frown, and it made Dean curious. He could see traces of hickeys on the back of Castiel’s neck and he smirked.

“Hey uuh, did you get lucky this weekend?”

With a deep blush and a horrified face, Castiel turned on his heel to leave. Dean shook his head and shouted after him,

“Hey, was there a reason you came in here or what?”  
“Oh, yes, apologies,” Castiel returned, still flushed deep red, “there are talks about a big account coming in today. I’ll keep you posted but from what I hear they will be here at around lunch.”

Damnit. What was this, a universal cockblock? Dean tried to fake a smile and thanked Castiel for the information, looking up at his clock. One more hour. One more hour of excruciating anticipation and the vague threat of a huge account stopping their fun yet again.

The hour crept by and Dean refused to talk to anyone. Jo had a change to a campaign they were running but Dean turned her down and said it would have to wait a day. Usually he would be on top of any account, campaign, editorial - anything - but the anticipation of Mr. Lafitte and being his little office pet had skewed his focus completely. Finally, ten minutes before lunch officially began, Dean found himself standing next to Meg's desk outside the huge office. The door was closed. Dean had no idea if his sir was inside or not. It didn't really matter.

“So you're the blank appointment in his calendar,” Meg suddenly appeared, Dean felt, and he turned to see her sit down at her desk.   
“Should have figured it was you.”

Dean swallowed a little hard, clenching his fists slightly. 

“How long has he put the appointment down for?”

Meg looked up from all the documents she was sorting and smiled. That smile was too creepy, too knowing for Dean's taste.

“Until two. Let me guess. He's shown such a liking to you that he's gonna pick his favorite to fill in on the big account early. Wouldn't surprise me.”

Whew. She didn't know… wait, what? 

“So… There is a big new account coming in today?”  
“It's a secret sugar-face, but yes. Keep it hush hush. You better make something spectacular now he's gonna fill you in early.”

It's not that kind of filling in I was hoping for, Dean thought as he turned to look at the door. Should he expect it to be just a work meeting? Would Dean, again, not get to have fun? His dick was going to pop off and run away screaming if it was going to get teased and let down much more.

As soon as the clock hit 12, the door opened. Mr. Lafitte stood there, broad and husky and perfect, and Dean's knees instantly turned to butter.   
With a smile, Mr. Lafitte asked Dean inside. Dean nodded and calmly walked in, not noticing Mr. Lafitte and Meg having a short silent conversation about locking the door and turning off the phones for the next few hours. Meg winked as the door closed and silently locked. 

“Hello, my good boy,” Benny hummed as he walked up behind Dean, his thick chest hitting Dean's shoulders. He could feel how Dean started shaking, and he placed his big hands on Dean's shoulders.

“Relax. We have all the time in the world. Nothing is stopping us today.”  
“What about the meeting,” Dean whispered, “the new account?”  
“It won't happen till later. Details still being decided on. Lawyers still working on the deal. Accountants still counting cash. Don't worry.”

Dean gasped and started silently panting when he felt Mr. Lafitte press a soft kiss into the back of his head. He closed his eyes and he leaned backwards, into the big chest and those big arms on his shoulders.

“Mmm, you smell delectable Dean. For me?”  
“Yes sir,” Dean was quick to reply, breathless.   
“And the red tie... I'm glad you took my suggestion.” 

Dean wanted to grasp backwards, wanted to feel every inch of his sir’s body, but he knew he already had some punishment waiting for him, and more than anything he wanted to be good for him today. 

“I'm so glad you wanted to play along all weekend. Yesterday especially,” Benny growled, slowly sliding one hand down and over Dean's stomach, the other moving up and around Dean's throat, thick fingers brushing gently up over Dean's jawbone and chin.  
“Been ready to play with you forever sir,” Dean gasped, his hands finding Mr. Lafitte's big arm over his stomach, “just been waiting for you to c-claim me.”

Benny chuckled, deep and dark and Dean couldn't help but let out a moan. He felt Mr. Lafitte push his groin closer, an extreme, hard heat hitting his ass. Oh yes. He was doing a good job. 

“I loved the little video,” Benny continued, snaking two fingers into Dean's open mouth, “I appreciate my boys being good at sucking cock before I have them. It's annoyin’ to have to train them. Are you a good cocksucker Dean?”

Dean moaned again and closed his lips around the two thick fingers, eagerly starting to suck on them, his hands clawing desperately at Mr. Lafitte's thick arm, his body shaking and rubbing backwards into the big, warm body. He received a pleased growl in return and the fingers started to move in and out slowly, coaxing him to really work them and making him eager to show his talents.

“Yes’” he heard Mr. Lafitte hiss and it made him buzz. One of his hands found the big paw on his stomach and he held onto it as it searched downwards, groping at Dean’s hard, aching cock. When Mr. Lafitte got a good hold of him, Dean jolted and arched his back, hitting his head onto the thick shoulder behind him. 

“So eager boy. So hard for me already. Do you want to taste me?”

Dean nodded, fingers still deep in his mouth, his body shaking. 

“On your knees.”

Mr. Lafitte released Dean completely and started walking around him as Dean, gasping and whining fell onto his knees. He felt like he was sweating, like he was boiling up and reading to explode at any second. He obediently opened his mouth again and the fingers from before returned into his wet and ready mouth. 

Benny stood directly in front of Dean and slowly worked two of his thick fingers into the open mouth below him. It was everything he imagined and more, hell he didn't expect Dean to be this obedient to begin with and just offer his mouth so easy. Benny wanted to rip him apart then and there, be ruthless and savage and fuck him senseless as he had wanted to do for weeks, but his calmer side decided against it... For a while longer, anyway. 

“Keep it open,” he ordered as he pulled his hand away and started unzipping his slacks slowly. His boy was a mess already, eyes shining and cheeks flushed, pants strained and shirt crinkled. Perfect. 

“Have you thought about how big I am? How heavy my fat cock will be in your mouth? How good it'll feel filling up your desperate throat, and later your tight little hole?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean whispered and nodded, his eyes locked on Mr. Lafitte's big hands opening his pants and fiddling inside them. A moment after, a perfect, red, thick cock pushed out through the fly. It was heavy, and wide, with the faintest hint of foreskin pulled back behind the swollen head. Dean felt himself salivate and he licked his lips when Mr. Lafitte stroked his thick, perfect cock slowly and teased out a bead of precum.

“Will you be a good boy, Dean? Will you let me fuck your pretty mouth?”  
“Yes,” Dean whimpered, getting more and more impatient. All this teasing had gone on too long, too many nights had he thought about tasting, feeling, enjoying himself with Mr. Lafitte’s thick cock in his mouth. 

The big, stocky man moved closer, cock still in hand. He whistled, short and loud, to make Dean look at his face. Dean moved around a little on his knees as he looked up, trying to keep focus on those bright, blue eyes above him. He felt how the heavy heat moved towards his still open mouth and he let his tongue press towards the back of his bottom lip. Mr. Lafitte hummed in approval and slid the heavy cock slowly inside, both of the men buzzing and breathing shakily. 

Dean moaned in the back of his throat as he closed his eyes and let himself completely indulge in the feeling. Finally, that fantasy that had been spinning in his brain ever since that stocky, strong, powerful bear of a man stepped foot into Dean’s life was getting fulfilled. Finally he was on his knees, slowly working this perfect cock on this perfect man, his own pants straining so hard, his own cock feeling neglected but oh-so-blissfully content with what was happening.

“Good boy,” Mr. Lafitte cooed, trying to stay stern and calm above his boy. He started thrusting slowly into the wet and welcoming mouth, the trembling within Dean’s throat when he moaned making him break a little, gasping. Damn it felt good. Damn, it was exactly what he had wanted for ages. Seeing how pliant, obedient and desperate Dean was for this too made it all so much better. 

“Go ahead, show me how good you are at suckin’ cock,” Mr. Lafitte growled as he let his hands move into his pants pockets. Dean opened his eyes and looked up, stopping his movement. The image of this inside his head was probably even more dirty than it looked in reality; him on his knees, palm of his hand pressing against the bulge in his pants, his mouth full of his boss’ thick cock, while that man was standing confidently and calmly, looking down at him. Dean pressed his eyes shut and shuffled a little closer, pressing the thick cock deep into his throat, making him catch his breath.

He pressed his nose against the soft hairs at the base of Mr. Lafitte’s perfect cock, breathing deep. Fuck this man smelled perfect, smelled like man and sex and lust and power and everything Dean wanted. He pulled back slowly, his tongue broad and wet on the underside of the throbbing cock and looked back up at his sir. He got an approving nod in return and with another moan he dove back down, quicker and quicker going root to tip. He vanished into his own lust, indulging completely in the feeling and taste and the sounds he was making Mr. Lafitte make. He became sloppier and sloppier, gasping and writhing and moaning against that beautiful cock.

Mr. Lafitte leaned his head back and groaned, his fists curling into balls in his pockets. He tried to control his breathing, keeping it deep and calm, but his body betrayed him and started thrusting deeper against Dean’s movements. He felt a hum in Dean’s throat and it sent shivers up his spine, and as Dean grabbed hold of the soaking wet cock and started jerking it onto his wet tongue, a deep growl escaped Benny’s throat as he came. He let his hands find Dean’s hair and clung onto the short strands as much as he could, timidly thrusting forward and hitting the roof of Dean’s mouth while the hands were still working him through his orgasm. He could hear how Dean was panting and moaning too, his voice breaking from desperation and lust.

“Mmmm yes… just what I needed,” Benny gasps, looking back down at his boy, all sweat and blush and a filthy, cum-stained mouth. Dean smiled and winked, and it made Benny’s softening cock twitch. Defiance and cockiness were always fun traits.

He signaled Dean to drop his hands and packed himself back up, knowing he’d have to change pants anyway with all the spit coating the crotch area. He started to calm his breathing again and observed how desperate and needy Dean looked, licking his lips and big, beautiful green eyes begging for something more. With a raised eyebrow Benny smiled and brushed his big thumb across Dean’s lips, earning himself a lick and the tip of it sucked down into the still hungry mouth.

“So good Dean. You have that punishment waiting for you, though…”

Dean’s eyes went a little wide and he released the thumb, his eyebrows knitting together in worry. 

“Sir, please,” he begged, voice a little broken still.   
“Get up, Dean.”

Dean frowned a little and got on his feet, looking at the ground. His pants were still strained, staining a little as well. As he was about to adjust for comfort, Mr. Lafitte leaned close, kissing Dean’s throat and curling his arms around him, humming contently. Dean melted for a moment, feeling his bodyweight shift to want to lean into the thick chest, but just a second after he was swiftly turned around and pressed against the desk, his hands instinctively pressing against the table top. He blinked and panted, looking down his body to see Mr. Lafitte’s thick hands groping him gently all over. One of the big paws found his aching cock and when he received a soft squeeze he whined, spreading his legs wider, clenching his hands a little against the smooth surface beneath them.

“Have you been naughty enough to fill yourself up today, huh?” 

Dean shivered and shook his head no. Not today. He had made a promise to himself not to touch, to leave everything to Mr. Lafitte. His pants got opened and pushed down, and the two warm hands brushed back up his thighs to touch his choice of undergarment.

“My my darlin’, dressed up all nice for me though.”

Dean swallowed hard and arched his back a little, presenting to his best ability. He felt Mr. Lafitte’s hungry eyes look him over and he wanted to come then and there when one of the thick fingers traced the lace hemline on one of his cheeks.  
They were silken panties, deep red with black, delicate lace. Simple, but comfortable and nice looking. Even Dean liked how his ass looked in them. And seemingly, Mr. Lafitte approved as well.

“If you hadn’t been naughty this weekend, maybe I’d have eaten you out while keepin’ your pretty cock trapped in this lovely panties,” Mr. Lafitte hummed. Dean whined loudly in return.  
“But, a boy’s gotta learn when he’s naughty. I’ve been very nice and let you taste me before we teach you a lesson. So, be a good boy for me now, alright?”

Dean nodded, unsure what was going to happen. He felt the silk material slide slowly down his ass and between his legs, his cock springing free. Mr. Lafitte chuckled, low and barely there, as he brushed one of his big hands across Dean’s firm ass. Before Dean could enjoy the feeling any further, the warmness retracted itself and instead, a loud smack and stringing sensation made him shout, loudly, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. He caught his breath and slumped a little forward, pressing his eyes shut. Spanking, huh?

“Now I’mma be nice Dean,” Mr. Lafitte continued, spanking Dean one more time, hard and precise and across both cheeks, “since we’re just gettin’ started,” one more, “but you gotta promise me from today on,” another, “that you ain’t gonna touch until I tell you to. Alright?”

Dean panted, whimpering and shaking, his cock leaking in defiance and wanting to come. He knew Mr. Lafitte was standing with his hand ready for another smack, maybe the last, and he wanted it… more than he cared to admit.

“Yes, sir. I pr-promise.”   
“Good boy,” the dark voice approved and smacked down a final time, hard and loud. Dean bolted forward and shouted, the sound rolling into a moan when he felt the heat of Mr. Lafitte’s body and groin return right behind him and a strong hand grasping his neglected, aching cock.

“Such a good boy Dean, much better than I expected.”

Dean felt himself roll back and forth against Mr. Lafitte as his cock got jerked in the same tempo, his hands uncoiling and his body warming up completely. He felt Mr. Lafitte’s hot breath against his ear and he lolled his head backwards, against the meaty shoulder, breathing and moaning and murmuring sweet nothings as the thick hand worked over his aching, dripping cock. When he heard a growly whisper, allowing him to come, his whole body felt like it snapped and a bolt of electricity went through him. He came harder than he had in ages, thrusting wildly into the thick, unmoving hand at this point, moaning lewdly and pressing desperately against the thick neck and shoulders next to him. He heard praises and felt bearded kisses against his jaw and he felt like he was about to collapse before the strong arms managed to grasp him completely and hold him up.

With ease, Mr. Lafitte moved Dean around and lifted him into his arms, carrying him over to a couch nearby. He sat Dean down in the corner of the very soft couch and kissed his forehead gently before swiftly walking over to a mini fridge, pulling out a bottle of water and a banana. He came over, smiling and his heart throbbing a little too hard at the sight as he sat down, hip to hip with the messy, still-high-on-the-sensation Dean. As he was leaning forward and opening the bottle, Dean draped against him and curled in under his arms, holding around Benny’s thick waist. He was humming and smiling, which was good in Benny’s opinion, but he nudged the man to sit back up and helped him drink some of the water. 

They sat for a little while, not really talking, Dean adjusting on the couch to drape his long, still naked legs over Benny’s thighs and leaning his head against the thick shoulder. He ate little bites of the banana that Benny would give him, and as his body started to calm down he smiled and felt himself blush. He hid between the couch and Benny’s shoulder, making Benny chuckle and ask what was wrong.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Dean muttered with a smile, sitting back up and away from Mr. Lafitte, “Just... that was… fantastic. If you don’t mind me saying, sir.”

Mr. Lafitte smiled in return, putting the water bottle down and leaning in towards Dean, his eyes glinting but soft. 

“Not at all. Glad to hear you enjoyed yourself Dean. I did too.”

A short while after, two soft knocks landed on the door. Mr. Lafitte smiled softly at Dean, who got startled and wanted to get out of his seat to get his clothes back on, but he was calmed down by a soft hand against his cheek before Mr. Lafitte walked over to the door, unlocking it and sticking his head outside. It was Meg, that much Dean could tell, but he couldn’t make out what the talk was all about. A moment later, Mr. Lafitte thanked her and closed the door, returning to Dean to kiss his forehead and walked over to his desk, starting to clear it of papers that had gotten sullied and messy. 

“Uhm?” Dean asked into the air, a little sore as he tried to move on the couch.  
“That big new account comin’ in, well, o’course they decide they’re gonna be here a little earlier. So I’m gonna have to get changed and get upstairs for the meeting.”  
“Oh.”

Mr. Lafitte nodded and sighed, walking over to a closet near the couch. Dean bit his lip as he pulled his own pants on, wincing a little when the fabric rubbed over his still red ass. Mr. Lafitte returned a moment later, already in new slacks and shirt, and he helped Dean on his feet.

“Would you like to do this again sometime, Mr. Smith?”

Dean was a little surprised by the formality coming back on the table and blinked a little, looking down at his hand still holding onto Mr. Lafitte’s. He thought it over for a moment, long-term stuff like this not something he was used to other than the friends-with-benefit deal he had going with Bela. He closed his eyes and all he could see was his sir, those bright blue eyes, those strong, thick arms, that glinting smile behind that perfect beard…

“Yes, sir. But please, call me Dean.”  
“Dean. Lovely,” Mr. Lafitte smiled, eyes glinting, “name’s Benny. But I do prefer you refer to me as Mr. Lafitte or sir.”  
“Of course, sir.”

Dean was let out of the office after they had exchanged a few kisses. Usually he was not used to his doms being big on kissing or aftercare, so this change was very welcome to him. He nodded at Meg, blushing as he left and he was smiling the rest of the day, happy that his dreams finally came true and that it had been much better than he had ever expected it to be.


	7. The Color Red

The new account had turned out to be a new international electronics firm with focus on tablets and smartphones. The office had been informed and was given two weeks to come up with their ideas for campaigns to start selling their products in the US. Dean had worked the rest of the week with Jo and Balthazar, hardly leaving the office, doing their best to perfect their suggestions. He had gotten a few texts from Benny, but not too many. More like “I look forward to seeing your hard work” and “If you land this deal, I will reward you greatly.”

At the end of the workday Friday, the team had created a strong outline and delegated jobs to their graphics designers, copywriters and themselves. As Dean was sending home Castiel for the weekend, he looked into his office where the lights were off. The silhouette of a little package was on the middle of his desk, with a silken red bow catching lights so gently. He cocked his eyebrow and looked around the office, making sure no one else was around. With calm steps he went inside, closer and closer to the little box.

It was black, but the redness of the bow made it stand out so clear even in the shadow of himself. He picked it up slowly, the fabric even on the box felt exquisite and expensive. The weight of the box was almost nothing, and he furrowed his brows as he saw a little note that had been underneath the little box on the table.

“For my good boy –B”

He felt a blush creep from his chest up his face and he fought a wide smile taking over his entire being. He slowly let one of the soft silken ends of the bow slip out as he pulled it apart, and it all fell gently over his fingers. He lifted the little lid with his free hand and as the gift revealed itself, he gasped. 

Folded together very neatly, but softly, a bright red material peaked out. He put down the lid and let his fingers softly touch the material. It was silk. He shivered as he found an edge and lifted it up to see what it was, putting the remaining of the box down on the table.  
Beautiful, red, silken panties. The back had a deep V, covered in a corset-like manner with more red silk strings crisscrossing so gracefully over the open part. He liked his lips as he turned them in his hands, looking at them with curiosity, and quickly his mind started racing with all the pictures and videos he would love to make for his sir with them on…

“I do like you most in red.”

Dean spun around with a gasp and clasped the delicate panties in his hand, pressing them hard against his chest. It was Mr. Lafitte, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and broad smile. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. Just wanted to make sure you found my lil gift.”   
“I-I did… thank you sir.”

Benny smiled gently, nodded and winked before turning to leave. Dean, still a bit flustered, ran to the door and looked after where his sir was going, seeing that he had met up with Mr. Adler and Naomi, and they were entering the elevator together. Dean smiled to himself and clutched the panties tight, excited about finishing the deal and getting rewarded further.

The following week had been much more stressful. Dean had to boss around so many people and felt himself get more and more frustrated when there was a misunderstanding or an error in something that should have been simple and easy to complete. The final meeting was Friday, where everyone should present their ideas and propositions to the new account and the CEO’s. No messages had come in from Benny, which had annoyed Dean greatly, and since he hadn’t gotten permission from his sir to touch himself he was extremely pent up and frustrated.   
He stared at his phone and contemplated texting Benny. It wasn’t ever decided that he couldn’t, but it had always been Benny that had started the texts. Dean needed permission though, needed to get some of all the pent-up energy out of his system and he quickly typed out a message to his sir.

“Sir, are you busy?”

A few minutes passed and Dean stared at his door. He could hear everyone moving and talking outside his office and he grew angrier listening to it. He threw his phone on the table and marched over to his door, ordering Castiel to not let anyone in for the next hour and slammed the door behind him, locking it quickly. He marched back to his chair, quickly loosening his tie and throwing it on the ground, kicking off his shoes and grabbing his phone. He felt it buzz in his hands as he walked over to the couch in the corner of his office. As he dropped onto it he sighed, opening the text and stretching his long bowlegs as much as he could.

_“A little. What do you need?”_  
“Permission, sir.”

Dean was fast at replying. So much energy, frustration and anger was surging through him and he could really use a good wank. 

_“I see. Is the account causing you trouble?”_  
“No.”

A minute passed without an answer. Dean growled, angry at himself. Why was he letting this man control him anyway, what the hell… it was not like he owned him, or they were together, or whatever.  
Just as he was about to simply throw away the phone and not care anymore, it rang in his hands. He stared at it and gulped before answering.

“H-hello sir.”  
 _“Hello darlin’. Poor thing. Can tell even by your texts that you’re frustrated.”_  
“A little,” Dean admitted, blushing. Benny’s voice was always so hot and the drawl always made his body buzz. All thoughts of defiance quickly melted away and Dean got comfy on the couch, one hand holding the phone, the other gently brushing down his chest.

_“I know you’re working hard. Been avoidin’ textin’ you to make sure you did even better. Keep your focus on the work.”_  
“I understand, sir. I just,” Dean sighed, “I could really use some, uh… tension-relief, if you catch my drift.”

He got a bit startled when Benny’s voice boomed with a laugh. Was he even alone, where he was talking? Dean gulped again and smiled to himself, trying not to think about it and just focus on the conversation.

_“Sure. It’s been a while too. My apologies, my good boy.”_  
“It’s… it’s okay.” Dean whispered, feeling how hot his face was becoming from blushing.   
_“Go ahead, have some of that tension relieved. Send me a pic of the mess you make. We’ll talk again after the meeting, yeah?”_

Dean nodded, already rock hard in his pants, softly brushing his fingertips over the clothed head of his dick. He moaned a little as he grabbed his balls through the fabric.

_“Dean?”_  
“Ye-yes, sorry sir. I guess I’m a little too excited, ready to give you that mess you want…”  
 _“Sounds good to me. Oh, and, Friday- wear the panties I gave you, huh?”_  
“Of course, sir. “  
 _“Good. I want to have a lovely present for myself to unpack when you bring us home that deal.”_

Dean smiled and put the phone away after he heard the call drop. He did as he was told, taking a few pictures of himself after he had jerked off, making sure to get pictures of himself while he was doing it too. As he cleaned up and was about to leave his office to return to his team, a text rolled in from Benny and he opened it with a smile.

_“Thank you, my beautiful, messy boy. So good for me. I can’t wait to taste you and your beautiful mess, too.”_


	8. Deliverance

They did it.

Dean’s team landed the deal. They were given leadership and main priority on the account and their largest products, and the acquisition of this account meant the whole company could expand and hire even more creative workers. 

When the new account’s team left, a party started in the office. There was champagne, and sushi, and shots. Dean was already pretty buzzed when he got dragged aside by Mr. Lafitte to a broom closet, without anyone noticing, out of sight.

“Whoaaah hey Benny-I mean sir, heh,” he slurred, a bit confused as to what was going on. He was getting pressed against a pile of boxes, tall enough for him to sit down slightly, and Benny was crowding him, his body big and warm and completely encasing him.

“He-hey uuh, hey, what’s-“

Benny shushed Dean with a kiss, catching him off guard. He felt his whole world spin as the kiss just continued, warm, big hands holding him around his waist, that perfect beard scratching him gently. He sighed contently and embraced the big shoulders over him, pulling Benny closer, kissing deeper and playfully letting his tongue slide against Benny’s lips.

The automatic lights went out inside the room and Dean laughed against Benny’s lips, waving an awkward hand to try and turn it on. Benny smiled in return and stood up a little, parting their kiss, making the lights quickly flash on again. They looked at each other with wonderment, both of them excited about landing such a big deal. 

“You did good work darlin’.”  
“T-thanks, couldn’t-y’just’ve told me that in there?” 

Dean slurred, hard, the last few shots of vodka he had hitting him harder than expected… but okay, he did only manage to eat three pieces of sushi before the drinks were passed around.

“Sure, but I couldn’t reward ya out there now, could I?”  
“Ooooooh,” Dean whispered, nodding a little too hard, smirking, pointing a finger at Benny, “I see. You got a good, smart brain sir, I like that.”  
“Mmmm… and you got a pretty mouth,” Benny drawled while leaning back down to steal another kiss.

However, that made Dean sputter and laugh louder than Benny had ever heard anyone laugh before. He nervously looked back and forth between the door and Dean before shushing him and leaning in, confused.

“What was so funny?”  
“Oh come on,” Dean whispered and laughed, adjusting a little on his seat to lean back against the cold wall, “don’t tell me you’ve never seen Deliverance? ‘Goddamn, you play a mean banjo’?”

Benny shook his head slowly no and it made Dean laugh again, tilting a little to his sides as he did, pressing his eyes shut and giggling. Benny, still confused, smiled and kissed the edges of Dean’s lips. After Dean had finished his laughs and kept to the occasional giggle, they continued their kissing, which was softer and far calmer than Dean expected it to be. Dean’s hands brushed all over the broad shoulders and clawed at the fabric, trying to pull it off. Although it felt like it was going too slow to Dean’s liking, they managed to get out of their respective jackets and Benny was slowly unbuttoning Dean’s crisp, white shirt. They were breathing a little harder against each other’s lips, Dean feeling so warm from both the levels of hot this broom closet-escapade was but also the alcohol surging through his body. 

Just as Benny started to kiss Dean’s neck, someone knocked loudly on the door. Dean jumped and wanted to crawl away but Benny slumped forward with a deep sigh.

“It’s Meg, you horny teenagers. Ben I’m going to need you outside, like, yesterday. Adler’s talking with the big guns and we need you. You can get off later.”

Benny groaned and leaned back away from Dean, frowning as he saw the disappointment in his boy’s eyes. He grabbed his jacket and packed it on, adjusting himself in his tight pants and brushed a gentle hand across Dean’s jaw.

“Go have some more fun, okay? Get somethin’ more to eat, too. Promise I’ll reward you as soon as I’m done, alright?”  
“Okay…” Dean sighed, both his hands finding Benny’s big one on his jaw. He leaned into the touch and held the hand there for a while, before kissing it tenderly and letting his CEO slip out of the closet alone. 

He sat for a moment, alone and his clothes a bit messy. He looked around the little closet, listening to the people outside, feeling his stomach flutter. He wasn’t sure if it was the excitement from earlier, or maybe… maybe he was starting to fall for Benny. They had had very little real interaction, but something about him made Dean more curious, made him want to explore more about him, hear more about him, see his other sides. See him outside work. Know what his interests were. What kind of milk does he buy, if he buys any? Maybe he likes yoga?

Dean had to huff a laugh of that thought to himself as he shuffled down his seat and got re-dressed, shrugging and joining the party. He made sure to wolf down lots of food before continuing his drinking, in case he had to meet up with Mr. Lafitte later.

Around midnight, Dean received a text. The party was still going, but moving away from the office and to a nearby bar. He pouted when he opened the text, getting pulled along by Bela into the elevator.

“Sorry Dean, this is looking to be an all-nighter for me. These guys want to talk big money and did not want to wait. I’m sorry to disappoint you. I understand you all are heading out. I’m sending you the number of my private cabbie if you need a ride home. Any trip, I’ll pay. Hope to talk to you in the morning. Be good, my good boy. –B” 

Stupid new account with their stupid deals and fuckloads of money… 

Regardless, Dean ended up having a great time. The whole gang was there, even people from the lower levels of the building, including a tall dude called Sam Wesson who was positive that they had been brothers in a different life or something. They shared drinks and everyone had a good time in general, and before he drank his last drink he started talking to Bela more about the whole deal with Mr. Lafitte.

“I don’t know Bela, he’s… I mean. He’s great at, y’know, commanding me… like you. But usually I don’t go back for seconds, you know?”

Bela cocked an eyebrow and they both laughed, swigging their drinks.

“You know what I mean. I just… I really want to get to know him, you know?”  
“What, like, date him or something?”   
“I don’t know, maybe? Can you blame me? He’s handsome and rich and funny… great in bed, at least what I’ve tried so far. I don’t know.”  
“Well, if you want my honest opinion Deanie,” Bela smiled, leaning in on Dean’s arm, smiling up at him, “I say go for it. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you smile this much because of another person and not another paycheck.”

Dean nodded, a little solemnly and kissed her forehead, gently smiling back at her after thinking about what she just said. They chatted a while longer before Bela went home, and Dean called Mr. Lafitte’s private cab. He was told he’d have to wait another 45 minutes, but he still accepted and ordered a last-last drink, relaxing at the bar alone. He noticed two men sitting down a few seats down from him, and how they kept looking over at him, but he shrugged it off and enjoyed his drink until stepping outside to wait for the cab to arrive.

It was very late, or rather in the early morning, and the streets were thinning out of people. Dean sighed and shivered as he felt a cold wind sweep past him, and he looked up the street to see if the cab was arriving. 

“Hey pretty boy,” a rough, nasal voice called a bit behind him, “waiting for someone?”

Dean turned and saw the two men from the bar walking closer to him, the stench of heavy alcohol almost radiating from them. One of them was incredibly tall with a sharp face, dark eyes and a beard so peppered with white hairs it almost reflected in the streetlights. The other was much shorter, stockier but walked with a sort of elegancy Dean wasn’t used to in drunken scum usually. He visibly cringed at them and turned back to look up the road, choosing to ignore rather than engage.

“Answer the man, posh-boy,” the shorter, British man snarled, jolting forward and grabbing Dean's arm hard, pulling him a bit in towards an alleyway, out of sight from the street. Dean tried to shout and shift out of the tight grip, but the tall man joined the party and flipped a blade out from his wrist, holding it against Dean's throat, almost close enough to cut his skin.

“Mind sharing some of your riches, pretty boy?”  
“Fuck you,” Dean growled, scowling at the tall man, earning himself a punch in the stomach and the blade pushed closer to his throat, cutting skin and a single drop of blood trickling down his throat. He couldn't curl down in pain without cutting himself further, so he squirmed upwards and coughed, pressing his eyes tightly shut. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, why did this had to happen, and why right now? Dean started shaking when he felt the shorter man start searching all his pockets, taking his wallet and his phone, even his keys. They were talking, mocking him, but he didn’t want to listen, couldn’t get himself to say a word in response.

“Have you seen this watch Al?” the shorter man grinned, lifting Dean’s arm a bit rough. Dean whimpered a little low in his throat when he felt the tall man lean in on him, a cold thigh hitting his crotch and a stanching breath moving in closer to his face. 

“Go ahead and take it,” the tall man – Al? – whispered, leaning in on Dean’s ear, “I’ll hold this little good boy still.”  
“I find it amusing how you always enjoy the corporal part of this much more than the fiscal parts. I’m sure this is worth a couple of grand, easy.”  
“I know… This brings me far more enjoyment than any stack of dollars would.”

Dean felt his arm get released and the shorter man seemed to leave to go out towards the street again. He opened his eyes very briefly and saw a pair of gray, soulless eyes staring into his own with such intensity he flinched and cried out. A cold hand was slapped over his lips and pushed him hard into the cold, icky wall, making a tear betray him and roll down his cheek.

“Aw, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you, promise. Although, I can tell,” the man said, removing the hand over Dean’s hand to quickly brush it over Dean’s crotch, “you’re kinda into it. Is this what you fantasize about, huh? Little control-freak at the job, needs a little roughing up?”  
Dean whimpered, looking away, squirming. The blade was still digging into his skin, cutting more, and Dean felt his throat getting slowly coated with blood, sweat and tears. And his body was betraying him. So much. His cock was twitching with every brush of that big, cold hand over his crotch, and he hated himself for every second of his body defying him, egging his assailant to continue on.

“Yeah, oh my. I know pretty boy, I know your type. If only we’d met under other circumstances, huh? Bet I could make you feel real good…”

The tall man pressed his whole body against Dean, making him stand completely flat against the wall. Dean sniffled and bit his lip as he turned his head when the tall man leaned his head down to lick a thick, wet stripe up Dean’s throat, catching some of the blood and smearing it upwards. He felt the hand on his crotch swiftly move up and under his pants and the cold fingertips stopped at the edge of the silken panties, making the assailant grin low and dark before leaning back out, smirking at Dean.

“My my… you are a kinky one, aren’t you. Bet you’re someone’s good little boy, aren’t you…”  
“Alastair, get on with it. Cops are making rounds soon.”

Before Dean knew it, he was left alone in the alleyway. He didn’t feel the man release his blade from him, or his presence leaving him. Dean opened his eyes and frantically looked around, his body starting to wildly shake and tremble, his eyes welling quick with tears. He quickly clenched around his throat, the cut was still open and bleeding but not severely. He stumbled out towards the road, seeing a cab pull up and a young man quickly stepping out of it.

“Dean Smith?” the man timidly asked, clearly a little confused as to Dean’s state.  
“Yes,” Dean gasped, blinking, tears streaming but his voice not shaking, “yes. I’m Dean. Please, uhm.”

He was helped into the cab quickly, the cabbie looked young and sweet and a bit too innocent to see a man in such a state. Dean dried his eyes in his jacket sleeves and felt through his pockets.

“Fuck,” he gritted, his voice breaking, “fucking hell…”  
“We’re you robbed, sir?”  
“Yes,” he whimpered, “they took fucking everything…”  
“Do you want me to take you to the police station? It’s nearby-”  
“No, no, please just… Take me to Mr. Lafitte, please.”


	9. Safe Haven

Benny groaned as he pulled himself out of bed. It wasn’t more than six am, it couldn’t be, he had just gotten home from the stupid, long-drawn meeting. He pulled into his pajama-pants and tossed on a t-shirt, scooting barefoot from his bedroom through the large kitchen and living area to his front door. The doorbell had been ringing a few times, nothing too intrusive, but Benny figured it could be something with work or someone that found his briefcase in case he dropped it out of exhaustion outside. 

He unlocked the door and opened it without really looking, until his gaze started looking up via the long, well dressed bowlegs he’d come to know and love so well. Dean. He blinked a few times quickly and shook his head as he focused on Dean’s face, and saw how distraught he looked. Instantly he woke up, his body filling up with a feeling of fear and anger, and he practically jumped out his door to cup Dean’s sad face in his big hands, inspecting him with worry.

“Dean? What happened, what’s- why’re you here, what-“  
“’m sorry,” Dean muttered, his body giving up on him and starting to shake again, “I-I can go if you don’ want me here-“  
“Shut up, that ain’t what this is ‘bout, are you alright? Yer bleedin’!”

Dean sobbed but his lips curled up in a smile hearing how much Benny’s Louisiana twang bled through his words. Maybe it was the worry. Maybe the tiredness. Either way, it was a comfortable quirkiness that Dean desperately needed right now.

“I’m ok sir, I was just-“  
“He was mugged, sir,” Dean was interrupted, by the cabbie. He came over with a clean towel and handed it to Benny who took it, holding Dean’s face with his other hand still. Dean lolled into the hand and braced himself on the thick underarm, sobbing a little low.   
“What?! Where?!”  
“At the bar I picked him up at, sir. I believe he said they took all his things, phone, wallet…”

Benny growled, pulling Dean in close to his chest with one hand and holding the towel in the other, clenching his fist in it. He pressed Dean tight, and without really realizing it, Dean started sobbing and his body melted against the thick body in front of him, so desperate for the support and safety he felt in those big arms.

“Thank you Samandriel. Do you mind calling the police for me? Send them up to me so we can file a report.”   
“Yes, sir. Right away.”

Dean could hardly stand when he was getting led inside the warm apartment. His eyes were too welled up with tears to even see the place proper, but he could tell it was expensive and classy. It smelled just like Benny did – manly, homey, comfortably, sexy, safe… 

He felt himself get led to a very soft sofa and gently helped to sit down in it, curling against the soft pillows in the corners. He cringed when he felt the sting of the wound on his throat and he could start to smell the vile alcohol from that tall man. Benny had left for just a moment but returned with a damp cloth and some ice water, sitting down right next to Dean and handing him the water.

“Please, Dean. Drink this, alright?”

Dean nodded, taking the heavy glass and bringing it to his lips, shaking it a little. As he tipped it to drink he felt Benny help him hold it straight and his pride whined within him. What kind of state was this to be in…

“Good Dean, good boy.”

Dean cringed. The words had been tainted. He quickly pushed the glass away and turned his head as well, pursing his lips in disgust and his eyebrows frowning deep. 

“What’s up? Did- did I say somethin’?”  
“I just… I can’t. I’m not… good. Please don’t call me good.”

Benny frowned, leaning in to take the glass from Dean slowly. The room quickly got filled with silence and Dean hated it, he wanted to scream and kick and punch everything in sight but he felt locked down, felt vulnerable and wrong and disgusting and he hadn’t even done anything. But that was also the problem.

“Fuck!” 

Dean shouted and kicked ahead of himself, flinching in against the pillows as he grit his teeth and pressed his eyes shut. 

“Hey, hey you’re alright-“  
“No, fuck, I didn’t even fucking do anything, I didn’t punch any of the fucking assholes, I didn’t kick the sick bastard in his disgusting dick, fuck, fuck-“  
“-Dean, calm down-“

He felt himself get crowded by Benny, feeling two very warm, strong arms curling around him and a heavy chest holding him tight. For a second he wanted to flee, away from getting pushed against anything, but when he felt Benny kiss his hair and shush him gently, big hands soothingly brushing over his cold back, he simply broke down and cried, his whole body going slack. 

“It’s OK, I got you, alright? Yer safe here. Ain’t lettin’ no one touch you, alright?”  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Dean sobbed, but Benny told him no quietly and kissed his temple, slowly rocking him back and forth in his strong arms. 

A few minutes passed before the doorbell rang again. Benny gently released Dean and gave him a blanket before going up to the door calmly. Dean curled up with it, too shaken up to try and keep a composure of any sort, and he pressed against the very big, soft pillows in the couch. He silently cursed himself for getting to experience how they felt because of him fleeing here after getting… 

“Yes officers, please come in. He’s over here.”  
“Pardon me for asking Mr. Lafitte, but, why did Mr. Smith come to you and not directly to the police station?”

Dean looked up, wide-eyed and stared at the two men in uniform. Why was that even an issue? Would they not take his account seriously now? He started shaking again and was about to speak when he was interrupted by Benny, who was standing at the other end of the couch, looking very calm and collected. 

“Yes, well. I’m his ex-step-father, and Dean has no other family in town. Out of pure shock I think he needed family after such a traumatic event. I’m sure you understand, officers. I made my cabbie call you as soon as he got him here safely.”  
“Alright sir, yes. It’s just a formality, we can tell how shaken up he is.”

‘Step-dad’? What the actual hell. Dean stared at Benny with his mouth a bit agape and flinched when he felt a hand land on his shoulder very gently. It was a female officer, called Donna Hanscum, who had kneeled down next to him. She slowly and calmly started to ask Dean questions about what had happened and inspected the cut on his throat.

Benny talked to the other officer a bit away, clearly talking about factual things – where Dean had been, when the cabbie picked him up, what was stolen. Dean kept looking over while he was telling the officer about what happened. It took him a long time, and when she asked him if he could remember if a name was brought up, he blanked out.

“I… I don’t…”

He knew he heard it. He knew. 

“What about a description? Would you be able to ID him, you think?”

Again, Dean’s mind felt blank. He felt like he had been looking at a demon, a monster, something otherworldly. He only saw paleness, gray eyes, a vile grin… 

“I…”  
“Miss Hanscum, maybe-“

Benny walked over, holding a timid hand out between Dean and the officer, looking a little more worried than Dean would have liked.

“Maybe we should give him a day or so, see if it’s better tomorrow? He’s in shock, clearly. I don’t think you’ll be able to get much of a description out of him right now.”  
“No, I think you’re right.”

She stood up and smiled at Dean, very softly. He smiled back and curled up with the blanket, staring into nothing. He heard Benny talk with the officers and leading them out of the apartment, and suddenly it was so quiet again. He felt his body start to shake again and his heart thumping out black, deep, gross feelings of fear and hate and everything terrible. He didn’t notice Benny kneeling down next to him, sitting on the floor, observing Dean’s face.

“Dean?” 

It was muffled in Dean’s ears, but he knew he was getting called upon. He shivered and slowly looked over, finding sad eyes on the face of his beautiful sir. He quickly looked down and away, hiding under his arms.

“Dean, darlin’. They told me we don’t need to go to the hospital with the cut if I clean it now. Will you please let me do that?”

It was silent for another few minutes. Dean didn’t move, neither did Benny. It felt like time had just stopped and locked Dean in place, and every time he closed his eyes he saw those piercing gray eyes, that pale face, that disgusting grin…  
He finally, slowly, sat forward and up, turning in his seat and nodded while looking down at the floor. Benny got on his feet and helped Dean stand, slowly leading him to what Dean quickly deduced to be the master bedroom. He was gently sat down on the edge of the extremely comfortable mattress as he saw Benny disappear outside the room to probably go get some clean bandages, disinfectant and a wet washcloth to clean the cut. 

He didn’t get much time to look around before his sir reappeared and dropped quickly on his knees between Dean’s legs. He was still tall, tall enough to work efficiently on Dean’s throat, and without talking together they managed to clean up the wound pretty quickly.  
Dean hissed when he felt the stinging alcohol rub over the cut and bit his lips when Benny ran over the wound a few times. He heard his sir apologizing, but he couldn’t do anything but grunt in reply and whimpered when he felt some bandages being neatly and tightly placed over the cut.

“Thanks,” he muttered when Benny got on his feet and was about to leave the room again. It was still so quiet, time was still disgustingly slow and all Dean wanted was to turn it back just a day. One day. He wouldn’t have gone with the others to the bar. He’d just gone home. Home, safe, where he would have woken up the next morning to a text from his sir asking him to be good for him in the morning… 

“Do you want to go home?”

Dean looked up and saw his sir standing in the doorway, leaning against it slightly. He only just noticed how casual he was, how comfortable, and it created another conflict of emotion within his stomach. If only he hadn’t gotten to see this side of his sir after such a shitty situation, but because he would be waking up next to him one morning after a fantastic evening together…

“I… Don’t know. I can’t get inside, m-my keys-“  
“-right, sorry. I forgot. I’m an idiot.”

Before Dean could protest, Benny was in front of him and gently helping him lay down on the extremely comfortable bed. He was tucked in, gently and slowly, and Dean curled up a little with the duvet and pillow, indulging in the scents of safety and everything Benny. He didn’t realize how comfortable he was getting before Benny’s warm hands left him and the lights were turned off. He quickly turned to look over his shoulder and called out for Benny before he left completely.

“H-hey, where… where are you going?”  
“Figure I’d sleep on the couch tonight, give you some rest. Understand if you don’t want anyone near you after that.”

Dean frowned, turning to face Benny, still huddled up completely in the covers. He quickly thought it over, but understood within himself that there was a reason he came to Benny – for safety. Being able to feel safe, and protected. 

“Please… stay?”   
Dean pushed further into the pillow, observing as the silhouette of his sir hardly moved. The outline of his thick body was delicately carved out in the light from the hallway, his big, muscular arms hanging gracefully and powerfully with his hands open. He turned his head slightly to look back at Dean, the slightest hint of the ice-blue eyes shining in the white light, making Dean shiver from anticipation rather than fear for the first time in a few hours. He was sure he could see the hint of a smile creep to the edges of his sir’s lips before he walked out of the room, only to return a moment after, having turned off the lights in the hallway.

Dean tried to hide his smile as he turned back around and crawled in further on the huge bed, unsure where his sir would place himself. To his enjoyment, he felt the thick, warm body slowly slip in behind him, unclothed legs touching the denim of his jeans. He suddenly became aware of how he was still fully clothed and became unsure if he should move out and away to undress, but a moment later he found himself resting completely against one of the huge pillows when a strong, warm, protective arm gently curled around his waist and held him close.

His whole body felt like it became boneless and his mind finally gave up keeping him awake. He curled against the arm on his stomach and pressed in close against the warm chest, and he could have sworn he felt a velvet-soft kiss get planted on his neck before he fell asleep. 

“I got you, Dean.”


	10. The Morning After

Morning came quicker than Dean had anticipated, his eyes fluttering open to see a large window with the drapes pulled, bright morning light making him curl tighter together in the warm bed. It took him a moment to realize that he was alone, however, and he turned around to see – and feel – that the side of the bed earlier occupied by Benny had gone cold. Dean frowned slightly, curling upwards to sit, rubbing his hands against his face. What a shitshow last night was, and he wished so desperately he had just gone home. He felt icky, tainted almost, even if he had been lucky; the man hadn’t gotten his way with him, but it still felt like Dean’s skin was covered in disgusting vile and that he was tainted, somehow. 

The words especially… good boy. Something he had enjoyed immensely with Mr. Lafitte was now tainted. Probably would be, for a good while. 

After sitting and looking out the bright window for a moment, he was sure he heard the sound of someone whistling; a low tune, something following along a radio playing in the background. The sound of something sizzling on a pan came to Dean’s ears too, and suddenly his nose picked up on the world as well. Was Benny cooking him breakfast? 

Seeing a neatly folded stack of clothes on the side of the bed waiting for him, Dean nodded to himself and decided to get dressed, go out and face Benny. Talk to him, see if he was scared off now that Dean had shown up so shaken up. It wasn’t exactly the way Dean wanted to show himself to this man, wasn’t the way he wanted their relationship to be. But he had gone to Benny on purpose, because it felt right… it felt… safe. 

He padded slowly down the corridor and was able to see into the open kitchen area that elegantly connected to the large living room. He could see the long couch he had laid in just a handful of hours ago, the door he had shakingly walked through. When he turned his head back to look at the kitchen, he saw the huge windows giving a clear view of the city skyline. It was breathtaking – and even more so because the sunlight was so intense it made Benny just stand out as a beautiful silhouette by the kitchen table. 

“Mornin’ Dean,” Benny smiled at him, Dean catching the brightness of his eyes and the white, straight teeth as his eyes adjusted to the light, “come, have a seat. Breakfast’s almost ready.”

Nodding, Dean shuffled over to the kitchen island and took a seat, eying the tall glass of orange juice standing nearby. The sizzle of an egg on a pan had him smiling, his stomach growling slightly. It seemed he was hungry, and he was thankful for that. At least he hadn’t lost his appetite.

“Go ahead,” Benny said quietly, shuffling the egg slightly on the pan, “have a drink. Oh and, sunny side up or full fried?”

Dean blinked as he took the glass and shrugged silently at Benny in reply as he took a sip. The fact that he was even cooking breakfast to him to begin with was… astounding. Before he had sat down the glass, almost emptying it in one go, he was given a plate of food. Eggs, baked beans, bacon. Dean smiled and croaked a little thank you, clearing his throat a little embarrassed. It seemed Benny didn’t mind at all, simply smiling as he retrieved his own plate and stood on the other side of the kitchen island, poking a piece of bean around on his plate.

“How are you feelin’?” he asked, tilting his head as he looked up at Dean who unintentionally mirrored Benny’s movements on the plate.   
“I… I’m fine, you know? Just feel… weird.”   
“Alright. Hope you have some appetite, know I shoulda asked before I started but you looked too peaceful in your sleep to wake you…” 

Dean smiled at Benny, deciding to demonstrate – and to show appreciation for Benny’s concern – that he was hungry. He cut the fried egg and smiled wider when the yolk ran perfectly onto the white plate, and when he chewed down on the cut piece he sighed in content. Benny seemed to appreciate that, and started cutting into his own food, too.

They ate in relative silence, the sound of the radio filling most of the empty space. It felt oddly normal, oddly domestic and as if this was any other morning. But it wasn’t, exactly.

“Thanks for… helping me. Yesterday.”

Dean’s voice was small as he sat a bit more forward over the table, clearing his throat slightly. He didn’t look up but he could tell Benny was moving around the table. It wasn’t until Benny had sat down right next to him and a soft, big hand landed on Dean’s shoulders that he noticed he had held his breath.

“O’course Dean. I’m just mad at myself for not bein’ able to do more.”   
“What more could you have done?” Dean said as he looked over his shoulder with a small smile, “I should’ve just waited inside.”  
“I should’a been there, or just not gone to that god damn meetin’-“

Dean sat up a little more when he sensed Benny growing angry. Angry? Why would he get angry, they never planned to meet up or go anywhere together. They weren’t a couple, there was no need for him to get upset like this.

“It’s not your fault-“  
“And it ain’t yers either, Dean. Just wish I’d gone with you, or been there to kick that slimebag’s ass or somethin’.”  
“I could’ve done that myself-“  
“Dean-“

Benny sighed and twisted his neck as he sat forward in his seat, closer to Dean, the hand on his back brushing a little further. Dean loved the feeling of it there. 

“I hate not bein’… bein’ in control. Of what I do, what other people’re doin’, what happens. And especially what happens to the people I… I care about.”

Dean’s heart stopped for a moment, but sat quiet as he listened. Clearly this meant more to Benny than he had initially thought.

“I… lost someone I loved, many years ago. In a situation where I was… powerless. And there ain’t nothin’ I want to change more in my life than that. So since… since then. I ain’t lettin’ anyone take away my control. Y’know?”

Dean nodded and turned slightly in his seat, to face Benny a little more. The blue eyes were shaking slightly and looking at a bump in the table, focusing there instead of Dean’s face. It seemed there was something far deeper to Benny’s personality, his dominating appearance and stature. It wasn’t just out of pleasure, but also necessity. 

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to…”   
“No, Benny,” Dean said quietly, lifting his hands to gently cup Benny’s head in them. “Don’t apologize. I’m so honored that you care about me like this. And that you opened your doors for me at all. Lied and said I was your stepkid… which only made me think ‘why is he bringing in my dad-kink out of nowhere to these strangers’?”

That made Benny laugh slightly, and Dean echoed it; their smiles were wide and the worry and anger that had locked around Dean’s heart was slowly unlocking. The CEO got on his feet and held Dean tight against his chest, kissing gently against the dark hair.

“I ain’t lettin’ anythin’ happen to you like this again, Dean. Alright?”  
“Thank you…” 

The remainder of the day was spent in a manner Dean didn’t expect to ever spend a day with Benny. They were cuddled up on the sofa for most of the day, watching TV and slipping in and out of sleep, chatting loosely over bad reality TV that Dean found out was also one of Benny’s favorite things to watch when he finally did watch TV. 

It just felt right, laying against this man, sharing soft kisses and words. Maybe, this situation, would never have happened without Dean’s bad evening. He decided to try and push the feeling of vile away, focusing solely on Benny and what they so clearly were developing together. They talked more about what had happened, and that Dean wasn’t going to press charges because he literally could not remember the face, hardly even the voice of the man anymore. Benny explained further who he had lost; a break in in his family’s house had gone wrong and his sister had been shot, and Benny was too young to do anything to really respond. It had made him grow into a very steadfast and assertive man, never letting anything go past him without his agreement. In turn, he had become just as dominant in bed, and Dean couldn’t exactly complain about that, even if he felt sorry about what had sparked that side of Benny alive.

Before Dean left that evening, they had another talk of the future. Benny demanded nothing than Dean getting better, taking it slow. They didn’t need to press on in their relationship, in what they had at the office. When Dean would be ready for it all again, Benny would be too. Whenever Dean needed anything – food, a place to stay, someone to talk to, Benny would be there for it. 

When Dean got into the cab outside Benny’s apartment complex he felt the ghosting kiss of him on his lips, and smiled to himself thinking about it all. It was unconventional… but Dean would like to believe they were starting something together more than just sexual tension release.


	11. Your Reward

Things were starting to get better for Dean again a handful of weeks after the assault. Benny had been incredibly supportive and the tone had changed between them quite a bit, the dirty whispers in the hallways turning into actual conversations in front of other people and one time they held hands for about three seconds at the coffee machine. Dean felt important, and wanted, and he was happy to feel that Benny got his control-need fulfilled by having someone to take care off again in all senses of the word. 

However, they hadn’t exactly had the exciting sex-life that they started out with. It upset Dean a little, scared that he was boring his sir, but so far any apologies about lack of lust for anything was brushed off with a “please don’t worry about that” and “we’ll get there when you’re ready again”. It was comfortable, but Dean was still worried he was getting boring. Regardless, he quietly thanked his sir every time they talked about it and allowed himself to just heal and forget the disgusting touch of his assailant. 

About two months had passed when Dean was in his office and the door was gently knocked on. Castiel stuck his head in timidly, as always, and Dean signaled him to come in. He didn’t expect to see a sharply dressed, intimidating-looking Mr. Lafitte to follow right after.

“M-Mr. Lafitte claims he booked a meeting with you today, but I do not see it anywhere in your calendar sir, I’m sorry if I missed it, or-“

Dean held up his hand to make Castiel stop blabbering, but his eyes never left his sir’s. They were silent, expressionless for a moment and Dean finally looked over at Castiel with a stern face.

“You may go, Cas. If I have any meetings the next few hours, move ‘em.”  
“Yes, sir.” 

The door was shut behind them silently, and neither of them moved. Dean felt his body starting to quiver and his palms getting sweaty, his dick twitching slightly in anticipation. Was today the day?

“I owe you a reward, Dean.”

Mr. Lafitte broke the silence, immovable still with his big paws in his pant pockets and his chin lifted slightly. Dean felt himself gulp a little hard and adjusted on the chair, leaning forward to clasp his hands over the table, clearing his throat.

“Yes, you do sir. I remember.”  
“I figure, now was the time for it, perhaps. If you want the reward, still.”

Dean licked his lips and dropped his stature a little, weak under every drawled syllable and the bright eyes staring him down so powerfully. He nodded, feeling his body warming up quick and his cock swelling up in equal pace, the fabric of his pants clenching tight around it.

“I do, sir.”  
“Good. Undress for me and lie across your table on your back.”

With a half-choked whimper, Dean got out of his seat and began undressing. He kept looking intensely at his sir as he moved to lock the door, and very slowly returned back to his original position. He was calm, collected, observant… And it made Dean’s whole body tingle.

He finally dropped out of his last clothes and stood there, shaking. He wasn’t sure if his sir wanted him facing him or not, but before he could ask Mr. Lafitte started walking over to the other side of desk, standing about a foot away from Dean. 

“Lie down.”

A strong hand – heck, just the fingertips – pushed Dean back towards the table and he sat down, eyes locked on the beautiful face of his sir. With a gentle push he started lying back, exposing every part of himself to his sir.

“Finally I get to see all of you in your glory, Dean. You’re perfect.”

Dean squirmed and blushed, deciding to stretch his arms upwards over his head, arching his back, spreading his legs a little wider. He wanted to show off, wanted to show this perfect hunk of a man what a treat he was for him. His whole body buzzed when he heard a growly approval escape Mr. Lafitte’s throat. 

He relaxed for a moment, smiling to himself as he closed his eyes, but they quickly sprang open again when he felt a warm heat encase his already-tightening balls. He gasped and lifted his head to see that Mr. Lafitte had dropped his jacket and gotten on his knees between Dean’s spread legs and was slowly sucking onto the tightening sack, eyes closed contently. 

“Oh fuck,” Dean breathed and tossed his head back, spreading his legs a little wider and timidly moving his hips. He could feel Mr. Lafitte’s tongue gently swipe over the sensitive skin and his cock flexed upwards for a second, desperate to be touched as well. Mr. Lafitte’s breath started to deepen pretty quickly, and Dean wasn’t sure if he was going to last through the whole reward – after all, it had been a long time since last. 

With a slow, broad, wet lick, Mr. Lafitte moved from the tight, clean-shaven sack upwards Dean’s hot shaft, leaving no part of the underside free from spit. He gasped as he saw Dean already writhing, and as he dipped the tip of his tongue over the slit to taste Dean’s precum, Dean bucked a little quick, whining as he threw an arm over his eyes. 

“A little over-sensitive, are you?” Mr. Lafitte chuckled, a hand pushing Dean’s hips down again, gently. Dean couldn’t muster to speak a word but nodded frantically, gasping and moaning.  
“I got you darlin’. Gotta stay still for me, okay?”  
“Yes,” Dean managed to breathe, his free hand finding Mr. Lafitte’s on his hip. He clenched around it as he felt the other big paw grab a hold of his throbbing cock, holding it straight. 

If Dean knew he wouldn’t be alarming everyone in the office right then and there, he would have howled from the bottom of his lungs. His moan caught in his throat as he was swallowed down from root to tip in one fluid motion, the sensation so hot, wet and overwhelming he was inches from bursting already. He clawed at the hand on his hip and did his best not to move as he felt the softness of Mr. Lafitte’s tongue move past his bottom lip and lick at the sensitive base of Dean’s cock, slightly down towards the heavy sack. 

After a moment of being fully covered by the warm, perfect mouth of his sir, Dean writhed when the heat slowly started to move up and away again. He felt the hand on his hip vanish for a moment, only to return between his cheeks and a finger, slick and cold, slowly moving towards his hole. He did his best not to moan loudly as he felt his cock get swallowed down again, slowly, his cock-head getting special love with swirls of the tongue and gentle sucks. Meanwhile, the finger was slowly moving in and out of him, deeper and deeper with every push, and he started cursing himself for not being ready for the reward sooner than he had been.

Before he could finish his thought, another finger started moving in alongside the first, slowly and slickly stretching him open, his cock still getting worked so perfectly. He lifted his head again to see and ended up bucking upwards unintentionally, the sight of his sir deepthroating his cock something he had only fantasized about so far. Instead of a protest, he heard Mr. Lafitte moan from the buck and he moaned in returned, slowly moving his hips back down to work against the push of Mr. Lafitte’s slick fingers. 

They found a rhythm then, Dean timidly fucking into the wet, perfect mouth on his cock and sinking deeper onto the now three fingers splitting him open. He wondered for a second why he hadn’t come yet, but was against rudely interrupted as Mr. Lafitte slowly released Dean’s cock from his mouth and wiped his lips in his shirt sleeve before planting his big paws underneath Dean’s thighs and lifting them slightly. Dean, a bit confused, tossed his head back again and tried to relax until he felt the swipe of that wet, perfect tongue on his loosened rim.

“Oooooohhhh fuuuuck,” he moaned out, a little louder than expected and he covered his face with his hands as he flexed his toes. Mr. Lafitte was growling, grunting, slurping and moaning as he ate out Dean, rough and wet and dirty, two re-slicked fingers joining the over-eager tongue shortly after. Dean started rolling his hips again, the sensation of Mr. Lafitte’s tongue at the edge of his loosened rim and the pads of the thick fingertips finding his prostate driving him closer and closer to the edge. 

“S-sir-a-ah-I’m g-gonna-“

Dean didn’t need vocal permission for this orgasm – Mr. Lafitte moaned loudly, openmouthed and still tonguefucking Dean, the fingers stilling deep and helping milk Dean of every possible drop of cum he could. They moaned in unison, moving in unison as Dean couldn’t stay still, and as soon as Mr. Lafitte could tell Dean was getting too over-sensitive he pulled out and away, standing up swiftly. Dean dropped his legs instantly, feeling boneless and completely spent, his chest rising and falling deep and quick. He looked up, his face blushed completely red and his hair ruffled, and he saw Mr. Lafitte push his perfect cock out through the opened fly of his pants, stroking it quick with the slick and spit from eating out Dean moments before.

“Wanna fuck you Dean. Can I?”

Dean didn’t even stop to consider how flustered and desperate his sir was sounding and looking as he was asking that question. He simply nodded yes and spread his legs again, lifting his upper body on his elbows and observed as Mr. Lafitte moved closer with his perfect cock.

He grabbed Dean’s legs into his strong arms and lifted him slightly, getting the perfect angle. He slid his hot, hard cock over the soaked, loose hole a few times and just looked at the beautiful mess waiting for him. Dean whined and flexed his muscles a little to invite his sir to get on with it already. 

It was all too much and still not enough for Dean. As Mr. Lafitte pushed in, which still stretched Dean further than he expected he would have to, Dean dropped his head back down and groaned, squeezing tight around the thick cock when it stopped inside him. After a few slow thrusts, Mr. Lafitte picked up the pace, his breath going ragged and deeper, moans spilling out in between as his clothed hips started mutedly slapping against the bare ass. Dean’s cock started to harden again, but he didn’t care for his own pleasure at that point. He squeezed around the thick cock with every out-stroke and whined and moaned loudly, putting on a show for his sir, enjoying every second being split on his perfect, thick, hard, hot cock. 

Dean whined as he felt Mr. Lafitte quickly pull out of him and drop one of his arms to quickly jerk himself inches away from Dean’s exposed hole. With a guttural roar, Dean’s sir spilled his hot seed all over the soaking wet hole and half-hard cock and sack, stroking himself completely empty. 

“Fuck,” Mr. Lafitte panted and smeared his come around the pink fluttering hole, looking down at the mess he made with a predatory little smirk on his lips. It made Dean smile and knock his head back against the table, breathing in long moans as he came down from the sensation. That had been worth the wait, for sure. And it seemed Mr. Lafitte felt the same.

Instead of walking away, or simply starting to clean up their mess, Mr. Lafitte – no, Benny – curled down over Dean and started peppering him with soft kisses. Dean hummed in pleasure from the attention and the softness of that beard on him, curling his arms around the thick neck of his sir. This felt just perfect. Dean never wanted this before, not with any partner. But he wanted to just kiss for hours with Benny, and then let Mr. Lafitte take over to command him around just as he had not ten minutes ago.

“I can get used to this,” Dean muttered with a soft smile as he gave Benny another kiss, Benny grinning in response.  
“Me, too.”


	12. Be Mine

Another few months passed, work going in a steady flow keeping both Dean and Mr. Lafitte busy, but never busy enough for meeting up in either’s office or even going to each other’s places. Usually they had ended up in Mr. Lafitte’s pretty flat, Dean slowly but surely leaving more and more things there so he could get ready for the office there instead of going home in the other end of town for it. He had smiled and kissed Benny deep one morning when he had found a new, fresh toothbrush standing next to Benny’s own. 

And yes, even Dean found it confusing sometimes, bouncing back and forth between Benny and Mr. Lafitte. But more and more he understood that in the public eye, he was Mr. Lafitte, and in bed he was as well; but as soon as the doors were closed or they had come, the man who cradled Dean close and kissed him and talked to him about his day was Benny. And they couldn’t deny it to anyone anymore; they were falling in love with each other.

One Thursday evening, Dean was huddled up with a cup of coffee in Benny’s couch watching the news while Benny was taking a call and walking around the apartment. It sounded important, at least Mr. Adler’s name was mentioned a few times. It wasn’t until Benny called out for Dean, the phone seemingly put down on the kitchen table that Dean looked up and back with a questioning look on his face.

“There’s a company dinner on Valentine’s day,” Benny said, chewing on his lip slightly.  
“Oh, okay. Yeah I’ll just call Bela or something, see if she- “  
“No, Dean,” Benny sighed and walked slowly down to the couch, flopping down on it as he shook his head slowly. “I wanted to ask you if you’d wanna come along as my plus one.” 

Dean blinked, staring at Benny with wide eyes. Even if they were practically a couple, this couple was only behind closed doors, mostly for the sake of not risking their jobs. But now Benny wanted to pull it all out in the open, in front of investors and the other CEO’s. In front of Mr. Adler.

“Uh...”  
“I know, I know. It’s… makin’ it official. In all senses of the word,” Benny laughed gently, brushing a hand over Dean’s thigh. “But I mean… I ain’t exactly lookin’ for no one else. So… wanna be my Valentine, Mr. Smith?” 

Dean blushed and playfully slapped Benny’s hand away, squirming slightly in his seat when the bigger man started to crawl over him and tenderly plant kisses with obnoxiously loud kissing noises until he reached Dean’s neck. There, the kisses became a little slower, a little more tender, making Dean willingly relax his body and curl his arms around the broad shoulders caging him in. 

Maybe it was time. It all felt right, felt good. They practically were a couple, anyway. And if they were fired, they’d easily find other jobs. Or maybe Mr. Lafitte’s bank account was so fat already they could just live on a beach somewhere…

Which would fit Dean just fine.

“Alright,” he replied finally, quiet, pulling Benny’s body down to press against his own, “I’ll be your Valentine, Mr. Lafitte.”

Valentine’s Day came, and the dinner neared more and more. Dean and Benny had spent a good few hours getting dressed – not because it was highly important to get all details of their outfits right – but because every time either of them got even slightly dressed the other got a little too excited, became a little too frisky and had ruined the shirts or slacks. Good thing Dean had practically moved in already and had all his clothes within reach.

They were driving towards the restaurant where the dinner would be held, Benny’s chauffeur Samandriel sending small smiles back to the men as they were exchanging soft kisses and held hands the whole way. It was exciting, bubbling like champagne in Dean’s stomach to take this chance, to get there and be a couple. They had discussed how to do it a few times. Go straight out of the car together, hand in hand, or have it be a surprise when Dean showed up to a dinner he wasn’t invited to. They both liked grand entrances.

They walked into the restaurant, Mr. Lafitte leading Dean along the way when they were led to the large dinner party in the very crowded, very expensive restaurant. In the middle of the dining room were most of the company’s CEO’s and their spouses, a few unfamiliar faces to Dean. Just as they were handed drinks by a waiter, Mr. Adler came over to greet Mr. Lafitte, but the happy face of recognition quickly melted into confusion when he saw Dean standing there, just a step behind Mr. Lafitte.

“Mr. Smith, I’m sorry I didn’t know you were here tonight too, what a funny coincidence.”  
“Oh, no sir,” Mr. Lafitte said with a small smile, stepping to his side to lead Dean a step forward and holding gently around his waist, “Dean here’s my plus one.”

It took every ounce of determination within Dean’s being to not smile wide and cocky at the utter shock on Mr. Adler’s face. He might have thought that Dean was a good flirt with all kinds of clients, but he clearly had no clue that sometimes, those flirts were more than just for money. Dean knew just how talented he was, how good at sweet talking and charming he was, and he was more than happy to take advantage of that inside and outside of the meeting room.

Well, was. For now, he was happy with his sir, happy that the company had expanded with the Louisiana company to bring this perfect man into Dean’s life. 

As they sat around the dinner table, Dean was surprised about the lack of questions from everyone. Clearly he was still just a little mouse at the big elephants’ table, conversations including buckloads of money and names of people he had no clue who was kept leaping across the table, including Mr. Lafitte in most of them. So Dean just sat there, smiling to himself as he ate the incredible meals they were provided with, sipping on the expensive champagne they were given all night. He smiled extra wide every time he felt the thick hand of Mr. Lafitte slide underneath the table and squeeze against his thigh, holding him close even when the CEO was discussing intensely with a man sitting across from them.

They had a moment to themselves between course four and five, when most left the table to get a cigarette or go to the bathroom. Mr. Lafitte leaned in for a private kiss and smiled tenderly at Dean as he brushed his hand against the slightly stubbled cheek of his lover, holding his gaze in the dimmed lights.

“Enjoyin’ yourself darlin’?”  
“Immensely,” Dean smiled in return, lifting his glass of champagne in a slight toast to them, “best Valentine’s date I’ve had in a while. Lots of money around this table. Power. Testosterone. Just my kind of party.” 

That made Mr. Lafitte laugh, smile so bright and the sound coming from deep within him. A laugh Dean was happy he was even allowed to hear, and had heard a lot more over the last few weeks. It seemed this man, so keen on control, was slowly starting to let down his guard and at least let Dean see his soul complete as it was; sometimes vulnerable, sometimes soft.

“So, what do you say Mr. Smith,” Benny said after lifting his glass and bringing it near Dean’s, a glimmer of excitement in his bright blue eyes, “will you be mine?”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up for a moment as he smirked and looked down to his lap for a second, only to return back up with a certainty in his eyes and love painted all over his features.

“Yes, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this story <3 Thank you for reading and thank you again to rednikjow for the lovely photo. Mwah all the love to all my DB babes and happy DBBB '16!


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